


Follow You Down

by Shklance_Beef_Sandwich



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (feat: a crappy song I wrote in less than twenty minutes and left as is), Amputation, Angst, Blood and Gore, Explicit Sexual Content, I wanted some happiness in this mess, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Multi, Sheith endgame, Trans!Keith, but it’s brief, cheesy duet scenes, mentions of multiple suicide, shklance - Freeform, zombie apocalypse AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 11:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15817752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shklance_Beef_Sandwich/pseuds/Shklance_Beef_Sandwich
Summary: So, here’s the thing; the world isn’t a safe place anymore. To be completely fair, it never truly was, but now, what with Living Corpses roaming the abandoned streets, and Keith having to fight tooth and nail for his life every waking moment, he’d argue that circumstances have worsened immensely."Leave your morals behind." That was what he was told the moment he managed to get out of that ridden hospital unscathed and shaken. "You either kill the dead or end up like them."It was then that Keith did just that.Realised in that second, then and there, that the world isn’t the same as it was before.Keith told himself he wasn’t going to grow attached to anyone; he wasn’t going to fall in love, because everyone he cares for is going to die, inevitable.But he does it anyway. He falls, and he falls hard.This is a story of loss, of gain, of unexpected romance and the horrors of an apocalyptic world.





	Follow You Down

**Author's Note:**

> This project has been my child for the past year and now I can finally show it to the world.
> 
> This is a part of the Sheith Big Bang, and I'm so excited to be a part of this, and to have been partnered with an awesome artist who has done an amazing piece which you can find [Here!](http://commodorecliche.tumblr.com/post/177461261643/my-art-for-the-sheithbigbang-i-had-the-pleasure)
> 
> Go check out her Tumblr over at [Commodorecliche](http://commodorecliche.tumblr.com) and give a follow!
> 
> Also go look at all the other awesome art and fan fiction for this event over on the [Sheith Big Bang Blog!](http://sheithbigbang.tumblr.com)
> 
> This was Beta read by Lucy, you can go and check out their blog over at [Doubtfulbones,](http://doubtfulbones.tumblr.com) thank you xo
> 
> Title from the song "Follow You Down" by Matthew Mayfield (go listen for general Sheith feels).

The day this all started, mere moments before all hell broke loose, Keith remembers thinking that that day was the best day of his life.

Keith remembers tears of joy, both from himself and his family, his sister Isla smiling so wide her eyes were squinted and his mother covering her mouth with a hand, crying softly but smiling still. The nurse had assisted in removing the gauze from his chest, the few scars still healing with prominent scabbing, but all he was able to focus on was the fact that his chest was flat.

He vaguely recalls a scream, from somewhere down the corridor, but thought nothing of it, he was in a hospital, after all, and the sad truth was that people cried, people screamed, and people died in these sorts of places.

One scream was followed by another, then another, and suddenly there were alarms blaring, and people running passed the door, down the corridors frantically.

To this day, no one knows exactly how it all started, how it all came about.

One moment people were dying and staying dead, and the next, people were dying and coming back somewhat alive and killing others.

One moment the world was as normal as it could be, and the next, the apocalypse had commenced.

At the sight of the Corpses, their dragging stature and snapping jaws, outstretched arms grasping at their next victims, Keith blanched. Keith has seen many interpretations of zombies before; grey or green skinned and emerging from the earth in cemeteries, saying nothing but an ineloquent drawl of “Brains” while wandering aimlessly.

It used to be comical, the thought of a zombie apocalypse.

Media portrayed it as horror but the people loved it, and they still do, what with all the zombie halloween decorations, with the countless movies and video games starring the undead beings.

No amount of special effects or computer-generated imagery blood and gore could have prepared everyone for the real thing. No amount of actors and actresses screaming on screen, arms waving in faux fright could have braced society for the true horror it actually is.

Keith watched as the doctors and nurses screamed, watched as Corpses grabbed onto writhing forms, as they yelled for help, for someone to save them, and ripped the flesh right off of their bones in harsh bites that had their victims choking on cries and gargling on blood and bile.

Keith watched as the end of the world began right before his eyes.

“Keith-” There’s a hand grabbing at his forearm, harsh enough to bruise, and Keith flinches, turning to look at whoever’s holding onto him with a frenzied stare. His sister’s eyes are just as wide, and she tugs at him insistently. “We gotta get the _fuck_ outta here!”

Keith’s pretty sure he nods, and then they’re running, Isla grabbing for their mum and then they’re clambering out of the window, into the chaos outside.

There’s a gargled groan mere metres away, and Keith’s mother screams, turning them in the opposite direction before he can see what it was, and they run toward the main street, towards the bustling of cars, honking and swerving, and into the midst of the frantic crowds.

It all happens too fast to fully comprehend.

The sound of gunfire emits within the crowd, and the people only scream louder. Corpses drop limply to the ground with sickening cracks and squelches, their skulls blasted open and brains oozing out onto the bitumen.

“Keith!”

Keith turns abruptly at the call of his name, seeing Lance, of all people, standing on top of a van with two other people, smoking gun in hand.

Without a hint of hesitation, Keith pulls Isla and Krolia toward the van, the word _safety_ on loop at the forefront of his mind.

Lance jumps off the van, shooting any Corpses dragging behind them and grabbing at Keith’s shoulder with wide, frantic eyes.

“I take back everything I’ve ever said about wanting the zombie apocalypse to be real.” Lance says, seemingly in one breath before he’s shooting another four Corpses, their bodies falling heavily onto the road at people’s feet. “Gun or sword?”

“Huh?” Keith blinks, his ears ringing.

Lance reaches up, the guy still standing on the van hanging him a katana which Lance then passes to Keith.

“It’s the end of the world, Keith. You gotta fight.”

Keith turns his head, watching as one by one, two by two, Corpses drop to the floor. They’re dropping like flies, but they’re also coming for the crowd of living people by the dozens.

“I don’t know if I can-”

He jerks back when the man working to kill off these things with Lance jumps off the van, Lance looking between him and Keith for a second before he clambers back on top of the vehicle.

“Hey,” There’s a large hand on his shoulder, and Keith looks up with panic-filled eyes. “I know you’re scared shitless, we all are, but you gotta leave your morals behind.” The man tells him, squeezing his shoulder then glancing at Isla and Krolia, so he can address the three of them. “You either kill the dead or end up like them.”

With that, he grabs Keith’s wrist, moving his arms so he’s holding the katana upright, and spins him around. He faces the crowd of people, both dead and alive alike, and he feels the man’s breath near his ear as he says in a low voice: “Don’t think, just do.”

Keith does just that, swinging the katana with an ear piercing _shing_ and slicing the head of an oncoming Corpse clean off, decapitating it in one smooth motion. He doesn’t give himself a chance to think about the fact he just killed a _zombie_ before he’s turning toward another and giving it the same treatment, stabbing the decapitated heads and insuring they’re completely still. After all, so long as the brain is unscathed, they’re alive enough to bite at ankles and effectively turn someone.

Keith exhales shakily, and time seems to slow; a few seconds feeling like an hour as the strong hand leaves his shoulder feeling cold. Isla appears at Keith’s side, handgun in her grip and a determined clench to her jaw. The siblings look to one another, and it’s then that time speeds back up, and they’re both turning away to fight the oncoming horde of undead beings.

They fight in tandem, six people working to save countless others. Isla screams in a mixture of rage and fear, shooting at the Corpses frantically.

Her gun clicks uselessly, and she eyes it in her shaky grip.

“Fuck.” Keith turns around, realising with terrifying clarity that Isla had shifted into the crowd some; out of ammo with Corpses trailing toward her.

 _“Isla!”_ Keith runs forward, his face wet with both tears and streaked with coagulated blood. Swinging his sword with little finesse, the blade digs itself into the shoulder of one of the Corpses. Keith yells, yanking the blade free only to stab the undead being between the eyes, watching as it falls limp after he removes his sword.

There’s a scream amidst the cacophony that stands out most, and Keith turns his head toward the sound, only to watch as his sister reaches out with a bloody hand, a Corpse latching onto her leg with both rotting hands and teeth, and another ripping into the arteries of her throat.

The sight is akin to that of a savage canine ripping into a piece of meat.

It happens so quickly, and Keith chokes on a scream, stepping forward and reaching out for his dying sister, only to be pulled back by two strong arms wrapping around his waist.

Keith kicks and screams, his surroundings nothing but white noise; his ears filled with the rushing of his own blood, the frantic thud of his own heartbeat.

One second it’s slow motion, being pulled further and further away from Isla, who’s barely twitching in a pool of her own blood and being ripped apart only to be eaten. And the next, the door of the van shuts with a sudden slam, and he’s brought back to the present.

Keith’s face twists unpleasantly, and he’s struck silent for a few beats, before he sobs; ugly and cracking throughout the enclosed space of the van, over the sound of the engine and uproar of screaming outside.

Keith vaguely registers the arms still wrapped around him, his eyes wide as the sight of Isla’s neck being torn open right in front of him plays on loop in his head.

“Mum-” Keith suddenly chokes out between hiccuping breaths, looking out the windows at the nightmarish scenery on the other side of the blood-stained glass. “Where’s-”

“Right here, sweetie,” Krolia says from the passenger seat, turned halfway and reaching out for Keith. He grabs her hand, their shaking fingers intertwining, and he can see how wet her cheeks are, her eyes puffy and lip quivering. “I’m right here.” She whispers.

The ride is almost peaceful, in an odd way. Keith half closes his eyes, leans back into the man he still doesn’t know the name of, his eyelids drooping after having cried so long, the weight of everything crashing down on him seemingly at once.

 _This was supposed to be a great day,_ Keith can’t help but think, blinking away the sting of oncoming tears. _Now my sister is dead._

Keith blearily registers fingers rubbing soothingly up and down his arms, the movement enabling him to slump, exhaling shakily.

“Just relax,” The man behind him says lowly, the material of his shirt sticky with what Keith knows is blood against his bare back. He doesn’t let himself think about that for the moment. “We’re safe, for now. Headed to a secure place.”

“You sure?” Keith murmurs back, tilting his head slightly and actually _seeing_ this man for the first time, actually able to take in that strong jaw and dark hair, those dark grey eyes that show too much emotion.

“Yeah, it’s a military base. I can guarantee our safety once inside.” Face solemn, he turns to look to the front of the van, and Keith notes the streak of almost black blood on the man’s cheek, the sight makes Keith swallow thickly.

“What’s your name?” Keith suddenly asks, the man turning back with a raised eyebrow. “Forgive me for not catching it, earlier.”

That earns him a huff akin to a laugh, a hand lifted to shake.

“The name’s Takashi Shirogane, but people call me Shiro.”

Keith takes Shiro’s hand, unable to help the twitch of his lip at the formality, despite the fact that his eyes are still red after his crying; after mourning.

“Keith Kogane.” Shiro nods, shaking their hands, he gestures to the front of the van with his other hand, not letting go of Keith’s.

“Our DAD over there is Allura, and you already know Lance.” Shiro says, vaguely gesturing to Lance beside them who let’s out an affronted “Hey!” Keith furrows his brow, ignoring the second half of that sentence to backtrack.

“...DAD?”

“Designated Apocalypse Driver.” Lance answers, as if that alone is enough context, before he elaborates. “She’s one of the best drivers, both on and off road, so when we got news of the apocalypse breaking out, we collectively made her the driver. And thus, DAD was born.”

“Ah.” Keith says, brows twitching as if unsure whether to raise or furrow deeper. “Good to know.”

After that, everyone is silent, and Keith has no idea where they’re going, but Allura seems to know, if the easy turns and swerving through traffic and crowds is anything to go by. That, or she’s really good at winging it.

After what feels like hours of seeing nothing but death and gore outside their safe space, Allura sharply turns, sending Keith barreling backward into Shiro and everyone grasping for something to stay upright. A large fenced off area comes into view, what looks to be soldiers of kind standing atop the metal walls with guns.

“What...is this place?” Krolia asks, leaning forward and looking warily at the large walls, squinting at the logo. “Galaxy Garrison?”

“A military organisation.” Allura says, and Keith realises this is the first time he’s heard her speak since this all started. “Here, cadets are trained to become astroexplorers.” She flashes a card at the window when someone knocks on the glass, and they nod, signalling toward the main gate that screeches open with metallic mechanisms. “As of right now, however, we’re just trying not to get eaten.”

Krolia makes a small ‘ah’ sound, just as Allura steps on the gas and rushes the van through the gate. Keith looks behind and through the back windscreen, watching as the gates close, and catching a glimpse of meandering Corpses getting shot down by the soldiers atop the walls.

Allura hazardously parks the van with a screech of brakes, and Keith jolts forward, his head almost making contact with the gear shift before Shiro’s tugging him backward, and Keith grips the arms around him, squeezing in thanks.

Lance and Allura clamber out the van, doors slamming and weapons slung over their shoulders. Keith sits still, still practically in Shiro’s lap, and Krolia stays seated in the passenger seat.

“We should head inside,” Shiro says, voice low. “We can get you two a dormitory and some fresh clothes. I’ll show you where we can then get some food, come on.”

He reaches aside and opens the door, and Keith moves off of Shiro’s lap, climbing out the van and standing on unsteady feet, taking in his surroundings.

There are people in uniform, men and women alike, marching past quickly, all carrying an array of weapons. Some of the cadets look younger, freshmen perhaps, if their paled faces and scared expressions as they trudge forward in shaky formation are anything to go by.

“I thought Allura said this place trained cadets to become astroexplorers…” Keith ponders, half aimed at Shiro but mostly to himself. The van door slides shut with a resounding bang before Shiro is stood at his side, following his line of vision to the retreating backs of the cadets headed toward the walls.

“She also said it’s a military organisation.” Shiro belatedly replies, and Keith nods slowly, watching as the group breaks apart, separating to different areas along the front gate, some running past the way they came to no doubt scout the back while a man shouts orders from atop the wall. “Everyone’s segregated into different rank and status here.”

“Like…?”

“Well, we have the cadets that want to actually get into space exploration,” Shiro starts, gesturing vaguely toward the wall as he continues. “There’re the soldiers, and the scientists. This is pretty much a university, in the sense that a lot of students do different things, but it’s run by the military.”

“Ah, okay.” Keith says, and Shiro sighs beside him.

“Come on, get your mum, I’ll show you to your dorm.”

 

* * *

 

“I know it’s not much,” Shiro starts, opening the metal door and flicking on the light to reveal a room with two single beds and a desk, and a door that leads into a small ensuite on the other side of the room. “But it’s a bed and a shower. Here are some fresh clothes, it’s the best I can do, for now.”

Shiro hands both Keith and Krolia a pile of neatly folded clothes, plain black shirts and what looks to be thick leggings.

“I’ll get you two some food from the hall, I’ll show you around later, but for now, you two should change and rest. I’ll be back soon.”

“Thank you, Takashi.” Keith says, and the man nods, giving a smile that was really just a quick twitch of the lip before he’s shutting the door with a mechanical click.

Krolia sits heavily on one of the beds, covering her mouth with a hand and shaking with a sob that has Keith rushing over and sitting next to her.

“Ma, we’re safe here…” He says, trying to convince the both of them, but Krolia just shakes her head, inhaling sharply.

“Isla…” She whispers, and Keith’s lip quivers.

He swallows around the lump in his throat, his arm wrapping around his mother’s shoulders as once again, the image of Isla’s death plays out in crisp definition at the forefront of Keith’s mind.

“Did you…” Keith pauses, blinking back the oncoming tears. “Did you see how…?”

“Not exactly.” Krolia answers, wiping at her eyes and grimacing at the dirt and grime upon her hands. “I saw her run forward, then I saw her go down…I just, I had hoped she’d have gotten back up with nothing more than a scraped knee like the old days.” She says, with a tiny twitch of a smile, before it drops into something devastated. “She never got up.”

Keith drops his head, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling as Krolia starts shaking; crying silently.

They sit there like that for a few moments, Krolia leaning against his side and placing her head upon Keith’s shoulder, and he stays there for her, the both of them quiet except for the odd sniffle or sob.

Krolia gets up after a while, smoothing the wrinkles off of her blood-stained jeans and turning to Keith.

“Do you mind if I use the bathroom first?” She asks, her voice a faux calm, but Keith can hear the shaky undertone of it.

Keith shakes his head, gesturing to the bathroom with an “All yours.”

Krolia thanks him, grabbing the clothes Shiro had brought them before shutting herself in the ensuite.

It’s a few moments after the shower starts up, that there’s a knock at the door. Keith stands cautiously, walking forward and opening the door slowly to see Shiro standing there with a tray of food and holding a couple bottles of water.

“Hey, is this an okay time?” Shiro asks, pressing his arm just in the doorway to balancing the tray precariously on one hand. Keith nods simply in answer, helping out by grabbing the food off of Shiro to place on the desk, noting the first-aid kit clipped to Shiro’s belt.

“What’s that for?” Keith asks, inclining his head toward the box and Shiro looks down at it as if he’d forgotten its existence.

“Oh, this.” Shiro unclips the box, lifting it and then opening it, before pointing vacantly to Keith’s chest. “You got a bit cut up during the thick of things back there, thought I’d help clean you up, make sure there’s no major wounds.”

Keith opens his mouth, about to say something along the lines of “There’s no need,” but Shiro holds up his hand.

“Please, I insist. I want to help out in any way I can.”

Keith relents, sighing and smiling softly. “Okay, thank you.” He says, and Shiro smiles back, before opening the small plastic first-aid kit he’d brought with him.

“Now, there’s not much in here in terms of emergency injury, but I have mild anaesthetics and Star Wars band aids.” Shiro says, with a furrowed brow, and the sight makes Keith huff a laugh.

Shiro looks up at him with a smile, grabbing some antibacterial wipes and reaching forward.

“This’ll sting a little,” He whispers, and Keith sucks in a sharp breath as Shiro starts wiping at the dried blood on his chest, gritting his teeth at the sting and inhaling the heady scent coming from the medicine.

“How’d you manage this, anyway?” Shiro asks after a while, and Keith inhales sharply again, but plays it off as another reaction to the stinging of the alcohol swab. “I mean, did you run through a shrub or something?”

“Yeah, we ran out the hospital, through the windows.” It was true, they’d all run through the gardens before hitting the main streets.

“Why were you at the hospital?” Shiro then asks, his brow furrowed in concentration while he dabs at Keith’s chest, gripping his bicep in one large hand. He looks up at Keith expectantly, and Keith realises he didn’t answer. “Sorry, that’s too personal, you don’t have to-”

“No, its fine.” Keith quickly says, lifting a hand and pausing Shiro’s apology. “It was just check-ups.” He finishes, feeling somewhat guilty for not telling Shiro, he has no reason to, but Keith can’t help but feel like he’s lying.

Shiro nods, and doesn’t push it, which Keith is grateful for. He finishes with cleaning the blood on Keith’s chest, dipping downward to wipe at Keith’s stomach before glancing up.

“Is this okay?”

It’s strangely intimate, and Keith thinks he feels his cheeks heat. He half nods, half shrugs, and Shiro smiles softly before looking back down to finish cleaning him up.

“I’ll leave the band aids here, the cuts aren’t bleeding right now, but for if they do,” Shiro holds up the box, shaking it slightly, and Keith hears the rustle of the box’s contents.

“Thank you, I could have done that myself though, you know.” Keith say, almost guiltily as Shiro makes to stand, causing him to hesitate, itching the back of his neck.

“Yeah well, just wanted to make sure you’re alright.” Shiro looks down at Keith, then leans aside to grab a protein bar from the tray of food and one of the bottles. “Here, you must be starved, and dehydrated. You’ve had a hard day. We all have.”

Keith takes the bar when Shiro hands it to him, nodding slowly. This has been, by far, the worst day.

“Thank you, for everything…if you, Lance and Allura weren’t there-” Keith exhales shakily, pressing the heel of a hand to his eye, lifting both legs upward enough to wrap his other arm around them. “Things would have turned out a lot different.”

Shiro sits beside Keith on the bed, his hand a soothing weight on Keith’s back, between his shoulder blades.

“We’ll work through this, as a team. We’re gonna survive this, Keith.”

“What makes you so sure?”

Shiro’s silent for a moment, his hand shifting until it’s gripping Keith’s shoulder.

“Because we’re strong. You’re strong, and so brave.” Keith scoffs, but Shiro just shakes his head, continuing. “You survived the start of the _apocalypse_ , Keith. No one thought in a million years that this day would come, but it did, and we survived it.”

Keith turns his head and looks at Shiro, the man’s eyes alight with something akin to hope, and Keith feels bad for the words that then come out of his mouth.

“How long is that going to last? We could die tomorrow.”

Shiro’s mouth twitches downward, and he turns his head, facing the wall with a furrowed brow. Keith notices the dried blood from before still on his cheek, meaning Shiro has yet to take care of himself. That pang of guilt hits him again, but before he can utter a word about it, Shiro continues:

“We could, you’re right.” Shiro finally says, and Keith’s drawn out of his thoughts to focus on the way Shiro turns his entire body toward Keith, his hand sliding from Keith’s shoulder, down his arm to grasp his hand. “But for now, we’re alive, and whether you like it or not, we’re a team. You and me, Lance, Allura and your mum, we’ll all get through this together. There are a few others that I’ll introduce you to tomorrow that will stick with us, too. Through everything, we’re together.”

Shiro gives Keith a soft, comforting look, squeezing his hand between them, and all Keith can do is nod numbly.

“We’ll be okay…also, I…” Shiro drops his head slightly, eyeing their clasped hands with a sad look before looking back at Keith. “I wanted to give my condolences.” Shiro says, a waver to his voice that has Keith gasping softly, a lump forming in his throat almost immediately. “I recently lost family, too. I know how hard it is, what you’re going through. I just want you to know that, even though we only met a few hours ago, that I’m here if you need anything. Anything at all, just let me know.”

Keith nods again, wiping at his nose none too gracefully with his forearm, blinking away the wetness in his eyes.

“Thank you…” He whispers, and Shiro nods in turn.

It’s then that the bathroom door opens, and Krolia steps out, hazardously towel drying her hair until it sticks up every which way. She pauses in the doorway upon seeing Shiro, tugging down the hem of the shirt she wore, her eyes then slowly sliding toward Keith, then back to Shiro.

“I brought some food.” Shiro says in lieu of an explanation, standing from the bed, and Keith’s forced to let go of his hand as he gestures to the partially forgotten tray sitting on the desk.

“Oh, thank you…?” She pauses, squinting slightly with a wince, obviously having forgotten his name. He picks up on it quickly.

“Shiro, ma’am, and it’s no problem. I was just telling Keith that I’m here for anything you need.”

There’s a small, tired smile from Krolia in response, and she thanks Shiro again before he leaves, giving Keith a last look, a small smile, and Keith waves weakly, before dropping his hand heavily as the door closes with a final click.

“He’s nice.” Krolia ponders, sitting on the bed adjacent to Keith and continuing to towel at her hair.

“Yeah, he is.” Keith replies, eyes still trained on the door, as if Shiro will waltz back into the room at any moment.

“He’s cute, too.” Krolia offhandedly mutters, and Keith whips his gaze from the door to her. “I think he likes you.” She continues, and Keith refuses to admit that his face heats with the statement.

“Mum, stop.”

“Why?” Krolia smirks, lifting her legs and crossing them, leaning forward intently with her chin in a hand. “You have to admit it, you’d both be adorable together-”

“Mum,” Keith says, voice clipped.

“Oh come on, Keith. You have to blind to not see the way he looked at you just now.”

“Mum, I’m serious. Stop.”

Krolia scoffs, rolling her eyes slightly.

“I’m your mother, Keith, we can talk about cute boys together-”

Keith abruptly stands with a sound similar to a snarl, giving Krolia pause, head lifting to follow Keith’s movement.

“Isla just _died,_ mum! Stop talking as if the world hasn’t _literally_ gone to shit out there!”

Krolia stands, too, using her height to her advantage and stepping close to Keith, but he refuses to back down, instead staring his mother off.

“I’m _sorry_ for wanting to distract myself from the fact that my daughter was _eaten_ , Keith!” They’re both seething, panting harshly and Keith reaches up to grip at his own hair, shaking his head furiously.

“Why can’t you mourn for her before trying to set me up with someone?!”

“Keith, I hate to break it to you,” Krolia starts, gripping both of Keith’s arms, forcing him to let go of his head. “But people are dying by the hundreds out there, and they’re going to keep dying. Mourning is not a luxury we can afford if we want to stay alive.” There are tears in Krolia’s eyes, and she rapidly blinks, her lip quivering as she speaks. “Nothing’s normal anymore, Keith. We can mourn, _of course_ we can, but we can’t let it show. From now on, when people die, we have to move on. We have to keep going, and survive. It’s just how the world is, now.”

“So that’s it?” Keith says, inhaling sharply and trying his damndest hardest not to let his tears fall for the umpteenth time that day alone. “We’re just going to move on and, what? Forget about Isla?”

 _“No,”_ Krolia cries, dropping her head, seemingly dejected. “We’re not ever going to forget about her, Keith. But we can’t afford to spend days, or weeks staying put and being upset about this. If the circumstances were different, if things were normal and she hadn’t…been eaten, then of course we’d take the time necessary to grieve for her.” She looks back up, and Keith meets her sorrowed look with a matching expression.

“None of us wanted this, no one could have predicted that the apocalypse, of all things, would have begun today.” Keith sits back heavily onto the rickety bed at his mother’s words, the frame squeaking harshly in protest, and Krolia sits upon her side of the room and back on her bed, albeit more carefully. “Life is going to be tough, Keith. But for the time being, we’re safe, until we find some place to go.”

Keith sits silently for a moment, standing after a short while, Keith turns and grabs the clean clothes that are sitting neatly atop the sheets, he then looks toward Krolia and sighs.

“I’m sorry, mum. It’s just…been a horrible day.”

“I know, Keith,” Krolia starts, smiling sadly, and she wipes her eyes with the back of a hand. “You go clean up, then we’ll get some rest, okay?”

Keith nods slowly, standing, he slowly makes his way into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself without another word. Keith turns and presses his back its wooden surface before he slowly sinks to the floor.

 

* * *

 

Keith awakes with a start the next morning, practically toppling out of the small bed, a siren sounding throughout the room, or rather, through the entire garrison. For a moment, Keith fears the worst, memories of the previous day flooding his barely conscious mind, thinking perhaps there’s been a breach in security.

“What the _hell?!_ ” Krolia shouts, shooting upward in bed on her side of the room, and Keith stands quickly, just as the siren stops almost as abruptly as it’d started, throwing open the door only to find Shiro standing there, his arm raised mid-knock, his face the image of surprise as he pants softly. Keith merely raises his eyebrows, and Shiro drops his arm heavily, giving Keith a sheepish look.

“I was supposed to let you know yesterday, that there’s an alarm set for six every morning, eight on weekends. Sorry about that.”

Keith sighs, dragging a hand down his face, realising belatedly he must look a wreck with his messy hair and sleep crusted eyes. He clears his throat, running somewhat shaky fingers quickly through his hair in a half attempt to untangle the tresses, looking up at Shiro who’s looking back at him with a guilty expression.

“It’s okay, really.” Keith says, and Shiro relaxes slightly. “Was just a shock. I’m used to a song waking me up, not a piercing siren. Whose choice was it to have _that_ be the wake up call, anyway?”

Shiro huffs a short laugh, shrugging.

“I have no idea, some sadist that runs the place.” Keith’s eyes widen, his lips twitching into a surprised smile, and Shiro winces. “Okay, maybe not the best choice of words.”

“You think?” Krolia inputs from inside the room, and Shiro seems to startle, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck, a nervous tick, Keith’s noticed.

“Forgive me,” Shiro starts with another wince, ”it’s early. I ran here as soon as the alarm started to warn you two, a bit too late though.”

“You ran here?” Keith asks, and Shiro nods, gesturing to his left absently.

“I’m three halls away.” Shiro says, then takes a step back. “Anyway, are you wanting to get back to sleep? You can, of course, otherwise I could show you to the mess hall. If you wanted.” Shiro adds, and Keith nods, looking back to Krolia.

“You know I’m not a morning person.” Krolia says in answer to his questioning look, already settled back under the covers. “You go on ahead.” She promptly rolls over, facing the wall, and falling back asleep almost as soon as Keith shuts the door behind himself, following Shiro to through the winding halls of the Garrison.

 

* * *

 

The mess hall was large and bright white with artificial lighting, filled with tables occupied by people; cadets, staff and civilians alike. Along one side of the room there’s a long counter covered in plates of food, piles of clean plates for people to grab, with a kitchen connected to the other side.

“That’s a lot of food.” Keith thinks aloud, watching as an empty serving dish gets swapped for another plate of freshly cooked omelettes. “Shouldn’t everyone be rationing?”

“They have to use the perishable foods, first.” Shiro replies, and Keith nods, that makes sense. “And besides,” Shrio continues. “Here we have a _lot_ of food. Lance and Allura’s friends, Hunk and Coran are the main chefs here.”

“Which one’s are they?” Keith then asks, looking toward the kitchen where at least a dozen people are moving around, preparing food.

“The big guy’s Hunk.” Shiro says, pointing to a large man in a yellow shirt and stained apron who’s shouting orders and plating up food. “And the redhead with the moustache is Coran.” His hand moves toward said man, who’s wearing an outfit consisting of blues and purples, his apron patterned and adorning similar stains to everyone else’s, ruining the floral design.

Keith can’t help but let out a small laugh at the sight, and Shiro smiles down at him knowingly.

“He’s…”

“Eccentric.” Keith huffs at the phrasing, tilting his head a fraction.

“I was going to say unique, but that fits.” Shiro hums, stepping toward the kitchen, and Keith follows.

“He’s a genius though. And probably the friendliest guy I know.”

Shiro hands Keith a plate, and they both grab some food. Keith doesn’t get a lot, not much of a morning eater, just puts some chopped fruit on his dish and follows Shiro when he inclines his head toward a table. Keith notices Lance and Allura sitting there with a few other people, and he awkwardly trails after Shiro as they both get closer.

To say that the atmosphere inside is tense would be an understatement.

Barely anyone is talking, just eating quietly, faces adorning somber expressions, staring blankly ahead.

Shiro takes a seat toward the end of the table, lightly tapping the chair next to him for Keith to take a seat on. He does so silently, looking around at the unfamiliar faces of the other people sitting near him.

A girl with glasses looks up, nodding in his direction, and Keith nods back, before she lifts the mug she’s holding up to take a sip of its contents.

“Keith, right?” She asks, breaking the terse silence, and everyone looks toward him expectantly.

“Uh, yeah…how did you-?”

“My brother, Matt,” The girl gestures to the oddly similar looking male sat beside her, “is Shiro’s roommate. I’m Katie, by the way, but everyone calls me Pidge. Over there’s my dad, Sam Holt, he’s the top physics professor, here.”

Keith nods, trying to give a smile but knowing it looks forced.

“It’s uh, nice to meet you all.”

“Likewise,” Pidge’s brother, Matt, mumbles into his cup, looking Keith’s way. “Shiro didn’t shut up about you last night, so it’s good to finally put a face to the name.” He continues, and Shiro clears his throat, looking down at his plate. He doesn’t deny it.

“Thanks…?” Keith belatedly replies, it sounds like a question.

“Anytime.” Matt says, then he’s standing with his empty plate, and walking away from the table without another word.

“This isn’t awkward at all.” Lance mutters from the other side of the table after a stilted moment of silence, and Keith glances over. “You look like you’d rather be anywhere but here.”

“Of course he does, Lance.” Pidge says, tapping her nails along the side of her mug, four small rhythmic _tings_ followed one after the other sounding from the motion. “Wouldn’t we all rather be home, with our families, safe?” She continues, and Lance ducks his head, as if he’d forgotten what’s happening outside; why they’re stuck in here in the first place.

“I just meant- I remember Keith being the most emo person when it came to early mornings in high school. I was just curious as to why he’s up right now. That’s all.” Lance explains, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Pidge rolls her eyes, muttering a “Sure, Lance.” just as Shiro looks at Keith, a divot between his brows.

“You didn’t have to come to breakfast, you could have slept in.” Shiro says, voice low as if he didn’t want the others hearing. Keith notices Lance looking at them both from over Shiro’s shoulder, sending a not-so-subtle eyebrow waggle his way.

“It’s fine, really. I’ve been getting up early for ages now. It’s been a few years since high school.” Shiro visibly relaxes at that, and Keith can’t help but smile a little at the expression. “I would have most definitely stayed in bed if I wanted to.”

Shiro smiles at him, then, and Keith smiles back, picking absently at the fruit on his plate, popping a grape into his mouth.

“How’s the food, guys?”

“Hunk!” Lance jumps up just as the big guy from the kitchen, Hunk, wanders over toward their table, his stained apron gone in favour of a cropped green vest and he smiles wide as Lance practically jumps into his arms. “I missed you,” He dramatically whines, sniffling long and loud, arms scrabbling for purchase around Hunk’s shoulders. Keith can’t help but stare at the whole ordeal, even as Hunk looks toward him, something akin to realisation in his eyes.

“Oh, you’re Keith, right?” He asks, half ignoring a clinging Lance and pointing toward Keith. Upon seeing Keith’s no doubt confused expression, Hunk elaborates: “Shiro told me about you.”

“He told everyone about you.” Lance says, deepening his voice and placing a hand on his cheek, fluttering his eyelashes. “Tomorrow, you all have to meet _Keith,_ he’s so _handsome_ and _brave_ , and I want to have his _babies-_ ”

“Okay, enough.” Shiro says, head in his hands, dragging them down his face he side eyes Keith with red cheeks. “I did not say that.”

“Oh, but he _thought_ it.” Lance stage whispers, and Hunk chuckles, prying Lance off of him, much to the man’s disdain. Hunk holds out his hand for Keith, smiling softly.

“The name’s Hunk. I would have come over sooner, but I was a bit busy.” Keith takes the offered hand, shaking it with a small nod.

“Understandable, it’s fine, really. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I heard you lost your sister yesterday, I’m sorry. I hope you and your mother are holding up okay.” Keith looks down with a small muttered thanks, letting go of Hunk’s hand in order to fold his arms over his chest.

Sensing the sudden influx in emotional tension, Hunk steps back, clapping his hands in front of himself, the sound too loud in the spacious room, and he winces slightly.

“Right, well…I hope you enjoy your breakfast, there’s plenty more food up there if you guys want.”

“Thanks, Hunk.” Allura says, and Keith startles slightly, having forgotten she was there, he looks up and sees her across the table, sitting adjacent from the man Pidge had introduced as her father, Sam Holt. Keith feels guilty for a moment, knowing he hasn’t been the most talkative, not that anyone blames him.

Hunk leaves with a final wave, making his way back to the kitchen with Lance on his heel.

“Hey,” Shiro whispers, nudging Keith’s shoulder slightly, and Keith hums in acknowledgment. “I need to talk to you about some stuff.” The way he says it sounds so ominous, it has Keith raising an eyebrow, looking away from the other end of the table and giving Shiro his full attention.

“What is it?”

Shiro looks around as if he’s about to tell Keith a huge secret, and doesn’t want anyone knowing. Maybe he is, Keith doesn’t know, just sits patiently and waits for Shiro to tell him what’s on his mind.

“It’s gonna be dangerous, and it really depends on how far everything is from here,” he starts, shifting in his seat, and turning his body more toward Keith. “But, we’re thinking of sending a team out. Out to each of our houses, going out and gathering the valuables we couldn’t before.”

Keith opens his mouth, but shuts it, giving Shiro a confused look. “Why are you telling me this?” He asks, and Shiro huffs, giving a half shrug and reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck, a common feat, Keith’s discovered in the last less than twenty-four hours he’s known Shiro.

“Well, how far into town do you live? We could stop by your place, take you and Krolia to get what you need. We have Recreational Vehicles, trailers, vans and an abundance of weapons. We could stick together and help one another out, what do you say?”

“I have a cat.” Keith blurts out, suddenly realising that in the midst of everything, with losing Isla and having to fight undead people, he’d almost forgotten that there could be a chance he’d see his small apartment again, a chance to save the feline. “I live in an apartment complex just outside of town, near the top floor. He’s the only thing I care about there. Only problem is…the whole building would be ridden with zombies, wouldn’t it?”

Shiro looks down, worrying his lip for a moment, brow furrowed, his face the picture of deep thought. Keith feels antsy, all of a sudden, it’s as if suddenly realising that there may be a chance to get home, no matter how dangerous, is giving Keith an ounce of hope.

“How busy is that area?” Shiro turns back toward him, a determined glint to his eyes. “As I said, we’ll all stick together. We can get to your place, I’ll go up with you, and we’ll pick off the Corpses as we go. Allura will have the van waiting for us to make a quick escape.”

“You’re sure?” Keith asks, moving more to face Shiro, himself. “I can go alone-”

“Like _hell_ you are.” Shiro interrupts, shaking his head. “At least let me go with you.”

“I don’t want you risking your life for me.”

“I’m offering.” Shiro points out, placing a comforting hand upon Keith’s shoulder. “I told you last night; I’m here if you need _anything._ And if that means going with you to go and get your cat, then I’ll do it.”

Despite the situation, Keith laughs softly at Shiro’s choice of words, ducking his head only to look up at Shiro, worrying at the inside of his cheek.

“Why me?” Keith suddenly asks, and the question gives Shiro pause. Keith watches as Shiro opens his mouth to answer, but then he shuts it with a small click, so Keith continues talking, instead. “And you can’t say it’s ‘cause I’m brave or whatever, or that it’s because I survived the first day of the apocalypse. Because so have a lot of other people. Everyone in this room has, that includes you, too.”

Shiro smiles at that, an expression Keith wasn’t expecting but one that isn’t unwelcome by any means.

“There’s just something about you.” Shiro belatedly responds, and Keith suddenly feels the temptation to glance over his own shoulder, to check to see if Shiro is talking to someone other than him. “I’m not too sure what it is just yet, but I want to know. I want to _get_ to know you, if you’ll let me.”

The two stare at each other for a long moment, everything Shiro is saying and has just said moving slowly through Keith’s mind like old gears, slotting together gradually. Everything suddenly feels like it’s moving in slow motion, as the rest of the room disappears in order for it to just be him and Shiro and this sudden…tension, between them.

When time begins to go by normally once more, it’s as if Keith’s been slapped in the face with the sudden realisation that he’s attracted to Shiro. Not just his looks, which someone has to be blind in order not to be attracted to, but his personality; the way he’s willing to drop just about everything to help Keith, someone he’s known less than a day. And that’s the thing, isn’t it? It’s barely been long at all, barely long enough to be able to trust someone entirely, the way Keith is realising he feels about Shiro. He trusts this man sitting next to him, the man who’s looking at him with patience, a kind smile, and offering to be there for him in the most trying of times the world can throw their way.

“Yes.” Keith says after his few moments of internal conflict, and Shiro’s expression twitches, but schools itself into something calm, into something _calming_ , which in of itself is a feat Keith thought impossible in this situation _._ Lost confidence that anything in this world could ever be calming again.

“Yes?” Shiro asks with a duck of his head, eyes flicking over Keith’s face, trying to read the no doubt complex guise his face bore. “Yes, you’ll let me help you, or yes you’ll let me get to know you?” A pause, “Or both?”

“Both.” Keith answers with no hesitation, and the smile it earned him in response has his stomach clenching in a way he doesn’t want to think too deeply about.

 

* * *

 

Keith sat in the back seat of the van next to Shiro, with Krolia in the passenger seat and Allura driving, Keith felt an odd sense of déjà vu, the only difference being that this time Lance wasn’t in the van with them.

The gates were opened with loud mechanical whirs and clicks, and Allura sped through them before they were even halfway open, quickly speeding down the forest road and veering onto the abandoned streets. She expertly swerved around meandering Corpses and abandoned cars, and Keith blinked slowly, not yet used to the sight of the undead beings, despite having fought plentiful just the day prior.

There was a pile of weapons at his side on the backseat, guns and blades, even crowbars. He kept eyeing the katana set, two long, sharp blades with an entwined sheath that sits upon the bearer’s back for simple access. Also, it looks badass.

Keith’s lip twitched upward at the thought of wearing it, reaching backward and bringing forth two wicked sharp blades and slicing with finesse. His train of thought is brought to a sudden halt though, thinking about the fact that he’s going to have to kill now.

Not that the Corpses are void of coherent thought and emotion, the only things on their undead minds was to _eat._ But Keith can’t help but feel like he’s killing a person, because in retrospect, he _is_. These beings were once human, they were once alive with families and things to live for. A lot of the Corpses have family members still out there, people that are still entirely human and distraught because these men, women and children have turned into monsters. Monsters that people have to kill and rid of entirely in order to not become like them.

Keith looks from the weapons to the window, noticing the van slowing down. He realises why when the familiar sight of his apartment complex comes into view. The building is small, and slightly shabby, but it’s Keith’s home. His breath hitches at when Allura pulls up to the kerb, shifting gears and breaking, but leaving the engine running, she turns to her body to look toward the back of the van, to look at Shiro and Keith as she speaks.

“I trust you boys know what you’re doing?” She asks, and Shiro nods without hesitation, Keith following suit. “I’ll pull up as close to the door as I can once you two get inside, then sit by the back door.” She gestures to the very back of the van, where the doors swing open. “Get what you need and get out, quickly. We’ll cover you, pick off the stragglers out here. Now go, be safe.”

Keith wants to laugh at that, because how can they be safe when there are literal zombies traipsing just outside the small amount of safety that is this van? Nonetheless, Keith grabs the katanas he’s been eyeing the whole trip, strapping them on with little difficulty and watching as Shiro grabs a small handgun, a pouch of small daggers and a broadsword. He looks up at Keith, then hands him another small handgun, inclining his head to Keith’s waist.

“For if things get really out of hand, best to have a firearm.” He says in lieu of explanation, and Keith nods, taking the gun and holster and attaching it to his belt, also grabbing a dagger to attach at his back.

“Alright, let’s do this.” Keith reaches for the door, looking back to Shiro who nods. He doesn’t look toward Krolia, who he knows is looking at him with such concern that if he saw her expression, he’d hesitate. He can’t afford to do that right now, not when they’re this close.

Keith opens the door and quickly gets out, Shiro following suit and shutting the door behind them and gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. They both look in every direction, Keith noting a couple Corpses ambling aimlessly nearby glance their way, and begin to stagger toward them, arms outstretched.

“Come on, this way.” Keith waves a hand toward Shiro, and they both make their way to the entrance of the building, quickly picking off a Corpse that was dragging itself across the ground, one leg missing and reaching for their ankles.

Shiro had swiftly stabbed it in the head, wrenching his sword from its skull and turning to Keith, waiting for direction. He makes his way toward the elevator, with the thought that that’d be the safest choice, but realises suddenly that the lights aren’t on, that there’s no power.

Keith cusses, waving Shiro over toward the stairs instead, and they both begin the five flight climb.

There’s surprisingly not a lot of Corpses in the building, Keith and Shiro only having to kill half a dozen or so, before they’re reaching Keith’s small apartment.

He reaches up and grabs the spare key from the top of the doorframe, sliding it into his lock and quickly twisting it, kicking open the door and practically running inside.

Shiro follows and closes the door behind them, watching Keith as he frantically looks around the apartment. Nothing seems out of place, and Shiro looks around the room, noticing a half empty cat food and water dispenser on the floor near the kitchen.

“Aka?” Keith calls, crouching low and looking under the couch, then making his way to the partially closed doors along one side of the apartment, checking in the bathroom, then finally looking in his bedroom, noticing the small, black lump on his bed, and wide, gold eyes.

The cat perks up, standing and stretching leisurely, as if Keith’s just come home from work, and hasn’t been away for the better part of two days. Keith immediately makes his way over to the bed, picking up the cat who mews softly in protest, his paws pushing at Keith’s chest, but Keith merely changes his hold on the cat, cradling him close, and Aka relents, lying in Keith’s arms, leg sticking out as he begins purring softly.

“That your cat?” Shiro asks from the doorway, and Aka springs upward, scratching at Keith’s shoulder in his frantic attempt to escape Keith’s hold. He quickly grabs the cat firmly, one hand holding the scruff of his neck as he makes shushing noises, and Aka calms slightly, staring at Shiro with wide eyes, who winces where he stands, mouthing “Sorry.”

After making Aka is okay, Keith makes quick work of finding the cat carrier and putting Aka in it, despite his yowls of distress. He grabs a cardboard box from the depths of his closet, filling it quickly with medications and clothes, and upon realising he really doesn’t have much, transports it all into a duffel bag instead.

“Let’s go.” Keith says, grabbing his pillow as an afterthought and going to pick up the cat carrier, but Shiro beats him to it, gesturing toward the door.

Getting out of the building is easier than it was getting in, the only obstacles being stepping over the Corpses they’d killed on the way in.

Allura is waiting for them, standing near the back of the van, gun at the ready as she pulls open the door, eying the Corpses slowly traipsing their way from across the street while Shiro and Keith climb into the back. Keith grabs Aka from Shiro, the cat yowling in confusion, no doubt scared, and Keith pokes his fingers through the thin bars of the carrier, making shushing noises and letting the feline sniff at his fingers, a small comfort in the familiar scent.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” Keith looks up at Shiro, who’s already looking at him, a small smile on his face. “Thank you,” Keith says, and Shiro nods, just as Allura gets into the drivers side to start driving away and toward the apartment complex Krolia lives in a few blocks away.

With Keith and Shiro’s help, they enter the apartment with little drama, though they do have to rid of a few more Corpses than before. Getting into Krolia’s apartment where she grabs clothes and photo albums, ensuring the doors and windows are locked securely, they quickly take their leave.

“I want to be able to come back here,” she explains, tucking keys into the small pocket of the bag she carries, filled with her belongings. “I’m not ready to say goodbye.”

 

* * *

 

Things seem normal for a few days, as normal as they can be, anyway. Keith and Krolia have their room, and Keith has Aka, who’s grown used to the place and sleeps at Keith’s feet at night, purring softly.

They get to know the others, and Keith spends more time with Shiro, finds out more about him.

“I have a brother, Ryou…he’s upstate. I haven’t spoken to him in…about two years, now.” He tells Keith one day. They’re sitting in a lounging area, sitting in a quiet corner and drinking coffee. It’s peaceful, and Keith feels happy, safe, for the first time during all this, sitting with Shiro and laughing softly at some of his stories.

“What about your parents, where are they now?” Keith asks, and Shiro gives him a sad look that has him dreading the answer.

“They died when Ryou and I were kids. I was eight, Ryou was five. Car accident. Our grandparents took us in, on my dad’s side but…They’ve recently passed.” Shiro’s looking down into his cup, fingers idly tapping against its side. “Before this, the apocalypse. Natural causes. They didn’t suffer, and I’m glad for it.” He looks up at Keith, giving him a soft smile, before he’s reaching over and placing a hand upon Keith’s shoulder. “We’re going to be alright.”

If only that were true.

Four days had passed.

Four days where everything seemed fine. Everyone seemed safe so long as they were in the Garrison.

That wasn’t the case.

Little did everyone know that a group of freshmen cadets had been plotting to take their own lives in a suicide pact.

Everyone seemed none the wiser as that group of six teenagers snuck into the lab using one of the cadets’ access key, and had poisoned themselves.

Only when they’d Turned and meandered around the Garrison, turning others until someone on patrol had triggered the alarm, did everyone find out.

But by then it was too late.

By then six had turned into thirty, and no one was prepared, having been sleeping, thinking everything was as normal as could be.

Keith had not long drifted off to sleep when the alarms started blaring, a mechanical voice booming over the PA system had him shooting upward, and had Aka flying to take cover under the bed.

_“This is not a drill. All personnel must evacuate the premises. There has been a breach in security. I repeat: This is not a drill-”_

“Keith, what’s happening?” Krolia shouts over the cacophony of sirens, eyes wide with fear, and Keith stands there, helpless, and just as clueless as her.

There’s suddenly a quick and heavy knocking on the door, and Keith opens it without a second of hesitation, greeted by a panting and shirtless Shiro.

“Keith, Krolia-” Shiro starts, and Keith suddenly realises Shiro’s got a bag slung over his shoulder as he pushes into the room, shutting the door behind himself. “We gotta get out, _now!_ ”

They make quick work of grabbing their belongings and shoving them into the still mostly packed bags, Shiro helping Keith get Aka by lifting the bed upward with surprising strength so that Keith can quickly grab the terrified feline and put him in the carrier.

They make a run for it, exiting the room and running down the halls, bumping into people that are screaming and tripping over their own feet, everyone making way to the emergency evacuation area in a frenzy.

Shiro pulls Keith toward the side, against the wall, gesturing for Krolia to stand with him he stands before them, stance spread as if protecting them both.

It’s then that Keith tunes into more than just the people running around, and watches as Corpses get shot, dropping down quick.

They’re in uniform.

Suddenly Allura and Lance are by Keith’s side, wheeling with them a trolley full of weapons, and Lance hands Keith the katanas he’d used the other day without a word, grabbing a rifle for himself and beginning to shoot.

“Pidge and Hunk are getting the RV’s!” Allura shouts, and Shiro nods briskly, grabbing the claymore sword from atop the pile, his chest heaving.

“And the van?” He asks, eyeing the Corpses warily, and Keith takes the moment to strap the weapons to his person, before unsheathing one and carefully putting Aka’s carrier down by his feet, hating the scared little meows he keeps making, he quickly pulls a hoodie out his bag to cover the carrier with.

“Coran is getting it, he’ll be here when Sam and Matt finishing gathering the things we need. We’re leaving as soon as they get here.”

Two recreational vehicles round the corner, veering through the crowd of people and parking next to their slowly growing group, Pidge opening the door of one of them, ushering Krolia inside. “Bring your stuff in here!” She shouts, grabbing the first bags off Krolia’s hands, and Keith hands her the carrier, before moving up next to Shiro, who looks down at him with a flash of concern.

“You should get in the van.” He says, shifting the sword in his grip.

“I’m not gonna do that, I’m helping.” Keith says back, and notes another RV come around the other side of the Garrison, and two vans following close behind. “You said we’re a team.”

Shiro seems to ponder that for a second, before he’s exhaling heavily through his nose and shaking his head, not taking his eyes off of the approaching Corpses, all the while.

“You’re stubborn.” He merely says, lip twitching upward a tad. All Keith can do is agree, before they’re both rushing forward and killing off the Corpses, much to the surprise of everyone else, who stand there, slowly lowering their guns, watching.

“Do your job!” A man suddenly yells, emerging from the back of the crowd and gesturing angrily at the soldiers, and they quickly get into position once more, raising their guns to shoot, narrowly missing Keith and Shiro with their shoddy aim.

So they’re not trained, Keith thinks, gritting his teeth and running up to a Corpse from behind, one that someone had just shot the arm of, nowhere near their goal, and stabbing clean through its skull, kicking off and watching the body fall to the floor.

Keith, Shiro and Lance are doing more work than the supposedly called Soldiers, and he can tell the man that’d yelled, obviously someone with authority, is extremely displeased by this fact.

“Use your training, Cadets!” He keeps yelling at them, as if that will suddenly make their aim perfect and precise, and it’s starting to get on Keith’s nerves.

It’s a gruelling task, but they manage to rid of the Corpses, the ground littered in bodies of people who were once classmates, lecturers. Keith sees Shiro take it all in, glancing from corpse to corpse, panting with exertion and swallowing thickly.

They’re both covered in blood, Shiro’s bare chest and back look like a gory painting, Keith’s shirt looking no better.

“You!” That man is still yelling, and Keith turns to see who it is he’s yelling at this time, only to watch as he storms across the way to Sam Holt, who’s standing by one of the vans, and he’s shoving a finger against the smaller man’s chest, face the picture of rage. “This is all your doing!”

“What the fuck?!” Pidge yells, appearing at her dad’s side, seething. “How is all this my dad’s fault!?”

Making their way over, the group circles around Sam and this man, who Shiro whispers to Keith is named Iverson.

“He was the only one with access to the lab today, and upon camera footage, six students had entered the laboratory, poisoning themselves.” Iverson never takes his gaze off of Sam, whose brows are furrowed. “You should have locked the laboratory, followed protocol, or this would have never happened!”

“Students killed themselves?” Lance asks, eyes wide. He’s ignored.

“I had students with access keys.” Sam tries to argue, his voice meek, and it’s a good point, but Iverson just scoffs, shaking his head.

“Don’t try to bullshit your way out of this.” He says, his expression a mixture of disgust and anger, and Keith’s fist clenches at his side. “You’re lucky I didn’t throw you into the midst of those damn Corpses and have you become one of them-”

Pidge yells something, about to rush toward Iverson, small frame and all, but Keith beats her to it, ignoring the hand gripping his am, ripping out of its grasp and punching Iverson square in the eye, watching as he goes down with a shout, swearing.

“Keith!” Krolia shouts, sounding angry, but Keith doesn’t care, seethes at the man on the ground.

“You’re lucky I didn’t throw _you_ to the Corpses!” He spits out, and Shiro tugs him back as everyone quickly gets into the vans, Shiro pulling him into one of the RV’s before they’re all getting out of there.

Only when they’re all out the gates, travelling along the deserted roads does Krolia turn to him, her expression that akin to a parent about to scold their child, which is what’s happening.

“What were you thinking!?” She says, voice loud over the engine of the vehicle, standing in the kitchenette. _“Punching_ a superior officer? If the circumstances were different- that’s a cause for arrest!”

“Did you not here the way he spoke to Sam?” Keith replies, voice just as loud if not louder to drown out his mother. “He threatened throwing him in with the fucking _Corpses!_ Tell me you wouldn’t punch someone for saying that, go on.”

Krolia’s eye twitches, and her fists clench, before she sighs, slumping and reaches a hand up to pinch at the bridge of her nose. “I raised such a hothead…” She murmurs, but Keith notices the small twitch of a smile as she shakes her head, looking back up at him and schooling her expression. “It wasn’t the right call, and you shouldn’t just punch people when they say something you don’t like, but fine. It’s been and done, and we’re out of there now.”

Sam appears at Krolia’s side, looking between her and Keith before nodding in his direction.

“What you did back there? That was incredibly stupid.” He pauses, “Thank you.” Keith chuckles, and Sam smiles at him, patting his shoulder and smiling toward Krolia before wandering back to the front of the vehicle.

From there the trip is surprisingly docile.

They manoeuvre their way around abandoned cars and wandering Corpses, and Keith sits on the bed in the back of the RV, staring blankly out the window. He feels the mattress dip, looking over briefly to see Shiro sitting with him, giving him a small smile.

“We’re headed to the mountains. The Holts used to camp in this one secluded area that has a big freshwater lake. That’s where we’re headed.” Shiro tells him, staring just passed Keith to look out the window too. “We’ll set up camp there, and make trips into the nearest towns weekly for anything we need.”

Keith nods, not really sure what to say. “Sounds like it’ll be good.” He opts for, and Shiro nods in turn.

They continue to stare out of the glass, a large portion of it dirtied by a dark splatter Keith doesn’t necessarily want to look at too hard, instead focusing on the buildings growing sparser and fewer as they drive out of town, large trees taking over his view. The road grows bumpier, they’re driving along dirt more so than bitumen at this point, making their way up into the mountains.

It’s a good tactic, Keith thinks, highly doubting that there would be Corpses that fancy going on hikes up the winding tracks and through the thicket.

It’s a long drive, so Keith lies back on the bed he’s sat on, Shiro lying beside him. They talk, not about anything much, just filling in the anticipated silences, until the vehicles start slowing down, and Keith perks up, looking out the window to see the promised clearing, the large clean lake.

It’s gorgeous, really, Keith’s face stuck in awe at the vast scenic views.

“Well, this is home now.” Sam says, and everyone piles out of their respective vehicles, standing together and looking around the space.

“We’ll set up barriers,” Hunk explains, adding in some science mumbo-jumbo Keith barely grasps, holding up metal stakes with devices attached to their tops, they’re long, and there’s a lot of them.

The group all work together, grabbing a few of the stakes each and making their way out in pairs, scouting the area and stabbing the devices into the ground.

Keith frowns slightly, stabbing at the ground with some effort, the dirt not unlike cement in this one particular area. He goes to move the device a few centimetres away, and the ground gives easily under the metal point, and Keith makes a small triumphant sound.

The group rendezvous back where the multitude of vehicles are parked, and Keith watches in amazement as Hunk activates the devices, electricity running along the metal visibly just before a pale blue screen rises between the poles, looking like puzzle pieces building upward, creating a glowing wall then turning translucent.

“Whoa,” Keith murmurs, just as Coran warns everyone to not touch the barrier, lest they get a nasty shock.

Vans are moved to one area, and Recreational Vehicles are spread out more widely, giving people a semblance of privacy.

“There are ten of us, we have three RV’s and three vans, two of which we’re going to use for town runs.” Allura stands before everyone, pointing to each vehicle . “Two of the RV’s have a double bed, and a single, whereas the others all have two single beds. That’s three in two, and four in the last one. And for anyone that wishes to stay alone, that’s what the spare van is for.” Allura continues, and everyone nods in understanding.

“Lance, Keith and Shiro,” She points to each of them, before gesturing the the RV on their far left. “You’ll stay over there.”

Keith looks toward Krolia for a second, but all she does is just smile tiredly his way.

Allura sorts everyone else out, putting the Holts and Hunk in the middle RV, with her, Coran and Krolia in the last one.

“Everyone understand?” There’s a collective agreement, and she stands poised, hands on her hips, looking absolutely regal and authoritative. Allura nods her head sharply, once, before dispersing the group, telling everyone to rest.

“This is going to be just like high school camps all over again,” Lance says, almost excitedly, opening the door to their now shared RV, Shiro and Keith following close behind. “I call top bunk!”

Shiro chuckles at Lance’s antics, and Keith just scoffs with a roll of his eyes, causing Lance to pout. “Why’re you such a bad sport, Mullet?” He asks, and Keith’s eyebrow twitches.

“Maybe because there are zombies out there?” Lance just blows a raspberry, flicking his hand.

“Zombies, shombies, we’re safe here.”

“That’s what they said about the Garrison…” Keith mumbles, ignoring the way Shiro looks at him, almost guiltily.

It shuts Lance up for a second, the three of them standing awkwardly, but then Lance grins slowly, looking toward the double bed under the single.

“Looks like you two are gonna have to cozy up from now on.” It’s only then that Keith notices the bed, it’s big enough for two people to lie on, but not big enough for their to be much space between himself and Shiro. He’s not opposed to the thought.

 

* * *

 

By the time the sun is beginning to set behind the trees, and stars are becoming visible, everyone is settled into their respective RV’s.

There’s a fire pit that Hunk and Matt had built, while Krolia and Pidge went to gather firewood. Logs and big rocks are circling it, makeshift seats along with fold out beach chairs and a few blankets. It’s all so nice, actually, and they eat canned meats and bread, telling stories as if this is a normal camping trip, and it’s a nice distraction, for everyone.

Keith sits on the bed later that night, half asleep and petting a purring Aka’s head, the feline nudging his hand every time Keith stops patting him for so much as a second. He listens to the water running in the RV’s small bathroom, if you can even call it that, hearing a bump and a muttered cuss, Shiro no doubt elbowing the wall for the umpteenth time in less than two minutes.

It makes Keith chuckle softly, and Shiro comes out barely three minutes after that, hair still dripping as he carries a towel, only in his boxers. Keith’s gaze rakes down Shiro’s body appreciatively, his gaze snapping back up when Shiro turns toward him.

“I dislike whoever made the bathrooms so small.” He simply says, shaking his head slowly, continuing to dry himself. “I can barely stand in there, let alone get dressed.” He laughs lowly, ruffling his hair with the towel until dark strands are standing up every which way, the sight adorable compared to the rest of his body, of which Keith wants to climb like a tree.

“Yeah, they must suck for people your size.” He smirks when Shiro gives him a small glare, before he huffs, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Aka looks toward Shiro warily, and he reaches out a hand, a bit of a distance away from the cat, who sniffs, slowly inching his way off of Keith’s lap until he’s sniffing Shiro’s hand, then nudging it, letting Shiro pat him.

They both smile at the sight, Shiro almost grinning.

“He likes me,” He whispers, making small clicking sounds with his mouth and patting Aka down his back, scratching above his tail in a way that has the cat arching with a loud purr, wandering to Shiro’s side and flopping onto the man’s thigh, rubbing his head there.

 _Lucky cat._ Keith thinks, watching Shiro scratch his belly until the cat kicks his hand away.

“No more belly scratches? Okay.” Shiro laughs, patting along Aka’s side, looking to Keith with a smile that he returns easily.

“He usually hates everyone, so you’re lucky.” Keith says after a few more moments of Aka loudly purring, absorbing all the attention Shiro’s giving him.

“I used to have a cat, when I was a kid.” Shiro tells him, thumb stroking under Aka’s chin, the cats’ head tilting back appreciatively. He looks to Keith with a reminiscent expression, smiling almost sadly and eyes growing glazed as he remembers. “He ran away. He was an indoor cat, and one time Ryou came home from some party late at night, and he’d gotten out…He never came back.”

As if sensing the sudden drop in mood, Aka stands, raising to his hind legs and placing his paws on Shiro’s chest, giving a soft, comforting trill that has Shiro chuckling, scratching behind his ears.

“Sorry to hear…” Keith murmurs, watching Aka nuzzle Shiro’s chin.

“It was so long ago, I just hope he found somewhere nice.” Shiro shrugs just as Aka makes his way back over to Keith, lying on his lap and settling down, seemingly done with wanting attention, his purring grows quieter until it turns into soft snores while Shiro and Keith continue to talk.

Lance eventually complains they’re too loud, and they settle into bed, Shiro pulling on some sweatpants and lying on his side, facing Keith.

“Night, Keith.” He whispers, the full moon outside creating a soft glow on Shiro’s face, and Keith can see his small tired smile.

“Night, Shiro.” He replies, just as quiet, and watches Shiro’s eyes close, before his are closing in turn, falling asleep to the sound of Shiro’s even breathing.

Despite how horrible everything is outside of their safe space, Keith thinks he could get used to this.

 

* * *

 

Keith wakes up with a warm presence at his back, a comforting weight along his side.

 _This is nice,_ Keith thinks, still half asleep, and he presses back into it, humming softly at how warm it is.

Keith blearily registers the weight shifting, until there’s sleepy sigh at his head, and Keith stills.

“Mornin’…” Shiro says, his voice hoarse, and it sends a small shiver through Keith, and he slumps with a heavy exhale.

“Hey…” Keith replies, he contemplates rolling over, but knows they’d be too close then, and wonders if they’re already crossing an unspoken line with the spooning. “Do you know what time it is?”

Shiro shifts, his arm leaving Keith’s waist, and he mourns its loss for a moment, but then it returns a moment later, and Keith smiles.

“It’s barely six.” Comes Shiro’s reply, lips pressed to Keith’s hair.

It all feels so domestic, like Shiro and Keith are waking up on a lazy Sunday morning. Aka helps with the fantasy, jumping up onto the bed with a small trill, and Shiro clicks his fingers softly, Aka walking up to Keith’s front, flopping down and rubbing against Keith’s stomach, Shiro’s fingers running through his fur.

All they need to make this image better is soft, lazy morning sex, but that thought is something Keith puts a stop to almost immediately, feeling as heat rushes to his cheeks.

Shiro’s arm is slung over his lower stomach, he’s still patting the cat, his crotch is pressed pretty snug to Keith’s ass, and Keith wonders if he realises.

He shifts back, as subtly as he can, and Shiro’s fingers pause in their tickling on Aka’s stomach, twitching slightly, and Keith hides his smirk into the pillow, reaching a hand down to pat Aka’s head, scratch gently behind his ear.

“He always wakes me up early for routine snuggles.” Keith murmurs, feeling Shiro’s arm move against his side as he resumes patting the cat, and he huffs a small laugh.

“I hope you don’t mind…” Shiro starts, he dips down a couple inches, so he can whisper in Keith’s ear. “You were shivering last night so I…” He tightens his arm around Keith’s side in explanation, and Keith nods slowly.

“It’s fine, thanks for not letting me freeze.” Shiro chuckles, and it’s soft, deep in a way that has Keith biting his lip.

“Anytime.”

They lie there a while longer, content to bask in the warmth of the bed, the sunlight slowly creeping in through the curtains  and washing over them, Aka purring at their side.

The fear of everything going on gets pushed to the back of Keith’s mind, happy for the moment in Shiro’s arms.

 

* * *

 

“I found it, the only one with all the strings still attached.” Shiro says proudly, holding up the acoustic guitar, the sight makes Keith smile. They need some normality around here, something other than killing what should have stayed dead.

“You play?”

Shiro shrugs, smirking a little, and Keith shuffles closer to him on the bed, crossing his legs.

“I dabble,” Shiro then says, strumming the instrument quietly, he clears his throat and looks to Keith with a small smile. He then does something Keith didn’t expect whatsoever; he _sings_.

_“You tell all the boys no, makes you feel good, yeah.”_

Keith’s eyes widen, and he smiles, huffing softly in disbelief.

_“I know you’re out of my league, but that won’t scare me away, oh no.”_

The two men lock eyes, Shiro’s expression softening, his fingers expertly plucking at the strings of the guitar and changing the chords, the act familiar.

 _“You’ve carried on so long, you couldn’t stop it, if you tried it._  
_You’ve built your wall so high, that no one could climb it._  
_But I’m gonna try.  
_ _Would you let me, see beneath your beautiful, would you let me, see beneath your perfect?”_

Keith gasps softly, the sound almost lost in the guitars soft tune, Shiro notices, but doesn’t falter in his singing.

 _“Take it off now boy, take it off now boy, I wanna see inside.  
_ _Would you let me, see beneath your beautiful, tonight?”_

The strumming quietens some, Shiro’s voice growing soft at the end, until it stops, but he still strums the instrument softly, and Keith surprises the both of them, his voice scratchy, as he starts singing the next verse.

 _“You let all the girls go…  
_ _Makes you feel good, don't it?”_

Shiro grins, nodding for Keith to continue, picking up the tune once more, and Keith cheeks heat while he looks down.

 _“Behind your Broadway show, I heard a voice say “please don't hurt me…”_  
_You've carried on so long, you couldn't stop if you tried it._  
_You've built your wall so high, that no one could climb it.  
_ _But I'm gonna try.”_

His voice grows more confident as he goes, and then Keith and Shiro have locked eyes again, something akin to awe reflected in Shiro’s gaze, and Keith preens at the sight.

 _“Would you let me, see beneath your beautiful, would you let me see beneath your perfect?_  
_Take it off now boy, take it off now boy, I wanna see inside.  
_ _Would you let me see beneath your beautiful tonight?”_

Shiro’s gaze flicks down toward his hands for a second before flicking back up to Keith, and the two finish the song together, smiling all the while.

 _“Oh, tonight…_  
_See beneath, see beneath, I Tonight I-_  
_I'm gonna climb on top your ivory tower._  
_I'll hold your hand and then we'll jump right out._  
_We'll be falling, falling, but that's okay._  
_’Cause I'll be right here._  
_I just wanna know- would you let me, see beneath your beautiful, would you let me, see beneath your perfect?_  
_Take it off now boy, take it off now boy, ‘cause I wanna see you say; would you let me, see beneath your beautiful tonight?_  
_Tonight, see beneath your beautiful, oh tonight, we ain't perfect, we ain't perfect.  
_ _Would you let me, see beneath your beautiful tonight?”_

Their voices soften into silence, as the guitar does also, the only sound in the small space are of Keith and Shiro breathing slightly faster, before they both laugh softly.

“Didn’t know you could sing.” Shiro says, putting the instrument aside.

“Same to you.” Keith says, and Shiro huffs, rubbing the back of his neck.

Shiro smiles at him, and Keith can feel his cheeks heat with it, and he glances away with a muttered “What?”

“You’re full of surprises, Keith.” Shiro says, his voice hushed. Keith swallows thickly, the tension in the room palpable.

“I- I’m not that interesting.” Keith belatedly replies, his voice betraying him and cracking slightly, but Shiro just smiles lopsidedly.

“Quite the contrary.”  

Something tugs at Keith’s stomach, both his and Shiro’s expressions dropping into something akin to anticipation, and they both lean forward.

It’s then that the door to their RV is thrown open with a large bang and Lance waltzes in, Shiro and Keith pulling away from one another as if burnt.

“Stop eye fucking, there are children present.” Lance exclaims, and Keith turns his head toward him so fast his neck clicks.

“We weren’t-”

“I know what I saw, Keith. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a face mask to put on.”

Lance interrupts him and holds up a Tupperware container containing what looks like mashed avocado, making his way into the van’s ensuite, the door barely closing comfortably behind him.

Shiro and Keith sit there silently, listening as Lance starts humming something that sounds suspiciously like Britney Spears, Keith fidgeting awkwardly.

“So…” Keith starts.

“So?” Shiro prompts, after a few moments more of nothing but Lance’s humming.

“I don’t know…”

Shiro huffs a laugh, shaking his head and looking at Keith from under his lashes, smiling softly.

_“When I crack that whip, 'errbody gonna trip, just like a circus- aha!”_

“I’m out,” Keith suddenly says, and Shiro laughs aloud, following him outside, Lance’s singing able to be heard even as the door closes behind them.

“I want to evict him, I want him out.” Keith murmurs, once him and Shiro are past the tree line, the two finding a quiet spot by the lake.

“We could talk to Allura, I guess, see about swapping someone?”

Keith exhales heavily, blowing his fringe away from his eyes with a huff. “No…that seems mean.”

Shiro chuckles, inclining his head in a half nod. “It is, yeah.”

Keith looks out over the lake, watches as a few deer bound around, blissfully unaware there’s such a thing as the apocalypse.

He envies them, in a way. They’re free. They’re hunted, but for now, they don’t know that. The animals just do their own thing, running around in the forests and drinking from the lake, grazing at plants.

It must be nice.

 

* * *

 

The day had started as normal as a day can be now, it was a Thursday, which is the usual day a couple members of their group leave camp to make a run into town for supplies.

“I’ll go.” Keith had said that morning after Pidge asked whose turn it was to go, slinging his katana and sheath onto his back, over his shoulders before tightening the straps over his front, keeping the weapons in place. “Aka needs more kibble.”

“I’ll go, too.” Shiro appeared at Keith’s side, dagger pouch strapped to his belt and sword causally resting upon his shoulder. Both he and Keith carried handguns on their belts, but more often than not opted to use blades. Guns were for dire emergencies, they needn’t attract more Corpses if they can avoid doing so.

After Keith and Shiro got into one of their two vans, Allura stood at the barrier, deactivating the section they drove through with a small device as Keith reversed out of camp, giving Allura a wave as the barrier rose up again, before turning and driving swiftly down the mountain roads.

Keith and Shiro had talked about nothing and everything, flicking through the radio stations with no luck.

“So, what exactly do we need to find? I know I need to get some more cat food but…what else was there?” Keith glances Shiro’s way before focusing back on the road, watching as the trees begun to clear and they enter the town. “I know there’s a pet barn somewhere nearby. I’ll just grab a couple of those huge bags, you know, the one’s that are usually over eighty bucks.” Keith smiles, and Shiro laughs lowly from the passenger seat, shaking his head.

“Hunk wanted us to stop by the hardware and get some bolts…or something.”

“Or something?” Keith questions, raising an eyebrow. “Did he write it down? He usually writes it down.”

Shiro winces and Keith looks toward him briefly, only for Shiro to look at him sheepishly.

“He did…I left the note in the RV.”

Keith just rolls his eyes with a short laugh. “Oh well,” he starts, “Hunk’s gonna have to wait a week.”

True to his memory, Keith finds a pet barn and pulls into the deserted parking lot, reverse parking by the door before putting the breaks in place and killing the engine. They sit there a while, looking around and ensuring the coast is clear. By the looks of it, it is.

Keith checks the rearview mirror, tilting it toward the open door of the store. He nods once and pulls the bandana around his neck up over his nose, looking to Shiro who nods back and does the same thing.

They both climb out of the van and grab their respective weapons, holding them at the ready. Keith holds one katana in his left hand, keeping the other strapped to his back for now, before opening the back door of the van.

Both Keith and Shiro are silent, don’t say a word to one another as they slowly wander into the abandoned store. The smell alone of rotting meat and dead fish is enough to have Keith gag behind his bandana, but he schools his expression, taking short breaths through his mouth.

Shiro gestures toward the centre of the store, and Keith looks to where he’s pointing, a Corpse is standing there, looking off into the distance. Keith nods toward Shiro before quickly but quietly making his way over to it, lifting up his katana, the Corpse turns around, making a gurgling sound and reaching out a hand just as Keith thrusts his blade forward, stabbing it between the eyes. The Corpse’s hand drops limply, and Keith presses a foot to its chest and pushes, pulling out his katana as the now entirely dead being flops backward, its skull hitting the linoleum floor with a squelching thwack.

He looks back over to Shiro, and the man just gives him a thumbs up. Keith huffs, rolling his eyes at Shiro’s antics and turning to look around the store. He notes the shelves a few aisles away that carry the large bags of cat and dog kibble, and makes his way over to them.

There’s a guttural sound at Keith’s five, and he swiftly turns, unsheathing his second weapon just as two Corpses limp out of the aisle. He unhesitatingly rids of them both, quickly kicking their forms aside and picking up a can of what is usually expensive cat food to inspect. He grabs three cans, shoving them into the deep pockets of his cargo pants and continuing onward toward what he’s mainly here for.

Keith crouches in front of the shelves, tugging the bandana from his face, reading the labels on the cat food with a contemplative hum, before pulling the bag from the shelf to place next to him. A rat runs out from behind the bag, running over his arm and Keith gives an undignified screech, flinging his arm and watching as the rat flies overhead, landing on the ground before scurrying off and underneath some other shelves.

Panting, Keith places a hand to his chest, eyes wide. “Shit,” He mutters, just as he hears the quick pacing of someone running toward him. Keith knows for a fact that it’s Shiro, knows that the Corpses can’t run that fast, and certainly not that well, but he stands quickly regardless, turning with a hand gripping the handle of a katana as Shiro rounds the corner with his sneakers skidding to a stop with a squeak.

“Keith, you okay?” Shiro asks in one breath, eyes flicking to and fro, looking for the danger. “I heard-”

“It was a rat.” Keith admits with a wince, letting go of his weapon in favour of lifting the bag of cat food with a small grunt. “It ran over my arm and scared me. We should go before the Corpses come out of their hiding places. They ought to have heard me.”

Shiro nods, and they begin to make their way back to the front of the store. Shiro picks off two more Corpses.

Keith suddenly makes a turn, begins walking through the centre aisles instead of going around, and Shiro follows him. They don’t think much of it, that is, until they turn into one aisle only to stand face to rotting face with at least a dozen Corpses.

“Oh fuck,” Keith starts, taking a step back and bumping into Shiro, who’s suddenly holding his sword out in front of Keith, as if to ward off the undead creatures with that alone. The Corpses act as if they don’t know what to do about these two alive humans that just wandered aimlessly into their domain for a moment, their heads tilting curiously, before one steps forward, arms outstretched and mouth opening with a bloodcurdling growl.

“Keith, stand back!” Shiro says, or rather shouts, stepping around Keith and swinging his sword up then down into the zombie’s skull, splitting it with a crack and splatter of brain matter. Keith takes another step backward, then pauses when something sounds from behind him.

Keith warily turns, only to cuss and drop the bag of kibble aside in favour of gripping both of his katanas and unsheathing them from his back, twisting them once in his hands and barging forward toward the other half a dozen or so Corpses that have made their way into this aisle, too.

Both him and Shiro work their way through the zombies, beheading and de-braining and stabbing this way and that, standing back to back.

One charges at Shiro, and he stumbles back, knocking Keith forward and into the small hoard that immediately grab at him. Keith shouts, swinging his katanas near frantically, slicing off limbs and cutting through torsos, but they still come at him.

Keith vaguely hears Shiro yelling something, before gunfire emits through their space, the Corpses crowding Keith dropping at his feet. There’s suddenly two strong hands at Keith’s shoulders, and he breaks the grip, whipping around and raising his katana, stilling with the blade mere millimetres from Shiro’s throat.

They both still, panting heavily, and Keith lowers his weapon, sheathing them once more before Shiro is grabbing the cat food in one arm, grabbing Keith with the other and sprinting out of the store.

Keith runs beside him, his arm going slightly numb in Shiro’s grip, but they quickly exit the store, the sun blinding them somewhat, but then he’s clambering into the van through the back door, Shiro climbing in after him and slamming the doors shut, locking them for good measure.

“Are you okay? Did you get bit?” Shiro’s suddenly in Keith’s space, hands on his face and turning him side to side, reaching for the packet of wipes Allura keeps in the vans and grabbing one, wiping at the blood on Keith’s cheeks and neck.

“N-no, I’m fine,” Keith belatedly responds, grabbing at Shiro’s hands and stilling them. “I’m okay, Shiro, I’m _okay_ -”

“It’s my fault,” Shiro starts, interrupting Keith and leaning forward to press their foreheads together, shaking his head. “You could have gotten bit and it would have been my fault.”

“What the fuck are you on about? It wasn’t your fault.” Keith pulls back, and Shiro grips his jaw a little harder, and Keith realises that there are tears in the other man’s eyes. “Shiro- _hey,_ it’s not your fault.”

Keith grabs the wipes, grabbing a couple from the packet to wipe at Shiro’s face, the streaked blood across his cheeks, his hands. They both get rid of the gore as best they can, sitting in the back of the van, mostly silent.

“I’m sorry, Keith.” Shiro says, and Keith shakes his head, opening his mouth to argue but Shiro stops him. “I pushed you. I didn’t mean to, but I pushed you into them…you could’ve…” He exhales harshly, dropping his head, and Keith lifts it with a hand under his chin.

“You saved me.” He says simply, but Shiro looks unsure. “A dead person threw themselves at you, it was my mistake for being plastered to your back, I got flung forward by the impact, none of it is your wrong doing. You _saved_ me from them, Shiro.”

Keith locks eyes with the man sitting opposite him, watching as a shiver wracks through his form, mouth twisting unpleasantly.

“It could have gone so wrong,” he murmurs, hand reaching up to grip at Keith’s hand where it holds onto the side of Shiro’s face, the gesture intimate. “You could have been bit-”

“But I wasn’t.” Keith interrupts, gripping Shiro’s cheek a little more possessively, squishing the malleable skin there and making Shiro’s mouth jut sidewards a little ways. If it were any other time, the sight would make Keith chuckle. “Shiro, I wasn’t bit. We fight everyday. We could die at any moment but look, right here, right now, we’re alive.”

Shiro and Keith are silent for a few moments, and Keith realises his breathing’s picked up, short pants breaking the tense silence between them.

“Keith…” Shiro mumbles, his eyes showing too much emotion, as always, his mouth twitching as if he wants to say something, but doesn’t know how to say it.

“Shiro…” Keith replies, tilting his head an inch, trying to read Shiro’s expression, the space around them seems to grow smaller, and they seem to draw closer to the other.

Keith’s eyes close, and lips press tentatively to his, pulling back but still close enough to feel, before they’re pushing forward again, more insistent, and it has Keith gasping into it, kissing back.

Keith shifts forward, lips locked with Shiro’s even as he clambers gracelessly into the man’s lap, arms coming up to wrap securely around his shoulders, revelling in the way Shiro’s hands reach for his hips and grasp at them firmly.

They both make a pleasured sound in tandem, and Keith realises he’s rocking forward on Shiro’s lap, legs spread easily and pelvises pressed together as they kiss.

It feels like a long time coming; everything feels so right, their arms wrapped around the other and breaths mingling.

Keith’s feeling everything for the first time, feels the way Shiro starts growing hard, the bulge in his pants pressing against Keith and making him gasp, Shiro swallowing the sound. There’s a tug in Keith’s lower stomach, a familiar sensation that has his cheeks growing pink with a blush.

He pulls back a moment, panting, eyes opening a sliver and staring shamelessly at Shiro’s spit-slicked lips, the way they’re parted and swollen, as Shiro pants shallowly.

Keith swallows thickly, biting at his own lips, shivering and unconsciously rolling his hips forward with small motions.

“Keith,” Shiro says, voice low as if someone could overhear them, his hands coming up to grasp at Keith’s neck, his jaw. “Keith,” he says again, and Keith looks up, meeting Shiro’s eyes, the grey irises swallowed almost entirely by black.

“Yeah…?” Keith belatedly replies, the single word sounding like a question, but Shiro just leans forward and brushes their lips together again, eyes fluttering before closing, kissing Keith some more. He eagerly kisses back, his eyes closing again, brows furrowing slightly in concentration and fingers carding through the shaven hair at the back of Shiro’s head.

Shiro pushes forward until Keith is tumbling backward, Shiro’s arms cushioning his fall as he’s laid on his back, and Shiro sits up, reaching aside and grabbing a rolled up blanket, a travel pillow, bringing them back over and leaning down over Keith, between his spread thighs.

“Lift up a minute,” Shiro says, snaking his arm beneath Keith’s shoulders and hauling him upward, sliding the blanket under him and beginning to unroll it, putting the pillow under Keith’s head. Keith lies there, pliant, letting Shiro manoeuvre him as he put him down again, only to lift his hips and finish unfolding the blanket so Keith’s lying on it.

He drops Keith down gently, leaning over him and kissing down his neck, making Keith sigh.

Shiro pulls back again, and Keith watches appreciatively as he sits up, only to pull off his shirt and chuck it aside, Keith’s hands reaching forward seemingly of their own accord and running down Shiro’s chest, over his abs.

They then make quick work of removing their shoes and shirts, pants coming undone and weapons thrown hazardously into the backseat of the van, the two surging forward to kiss every now and again.

“There’s something I gotta-” Keith starts, but his thoughts are interrupted by a gasp when Shiro’s lips trail down his neck, sucking leisurely against his collarbone. “Shiro I should tell you something, _gotta_ tell you-”

Shiro hums, sitting up and looming over Keith, his breath heightened and eyes heavy. “What is it?” He asks, eyes gaining some clarity. “Too fast?”

“No- no it’s just…” Keith knew this would have to come out sooner or later, he just didn’t expect to be having this conversation while half naked under a man twice his size. He has the fleeting fear that this will change everything Shiro thinks about him, that the man will make a face akin to disgust and get off of him, but Keith knows Shiro’s not like that, knows that he’s not horrible, and (hopefully) wouldn’t judge him for something like this.

“Keith?” Shiro’s hand comes up to cup his cheek, and Keith realises his eyes are wet. “What is it, baby?” The nickname has him gasping, and Keith bites his lip, trying to not let them quiver.

“Well, um…two- two things,” Keith meekly holds up two fingers, exhaling shakily. “It’s kinda a big deal for me, and I…should have told you sooner, I’m sorry…”

Shiro shakes his head, thumb tracing Keith’s cheekbone. “It’s okay, Keith. Whatever it is, it won’t change anything.” Keith almost gives an indignant huff at that, almost rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t, instead smiling up at Shiro, the motion full of nerves.

“First thing is, I’ve never…” He makes a vague hand gesture between them, and Shiro smiles a little lopsidedly, and Keith winces. “Y’know.”

“Made out half naked in the back of a van during an apocalypse? This is a first for me, too.” Shiro says, and Keith can’t help but chuckle at that.

“I thought I was the only one.” He replies, playing along, and it calms his nerves somewhat, which he’s grateful for. His expression drops after a moment though, and he runs twitching fingers through his fringe, first pushing it back off of his forehead before pulling it back, almost covering his eyes with the tresses.

“Keith, I’m not going to judge you, we don’t have to do anything. I’m content with just kissing you.” Shiro leans down, his hand sliding from Keith’s cheek to move his fringe off of his face, and Keith gives a small pout at that, but Shiro just looks at him, something equivalent to awe in his gaze. “I’m just…really happy with just this.”

Shiro’s so honest, and so painstakingly sweet that it makes Keith’s chest ache in an odd way, almost as if Shiro’s manually tugging at his heartstrings.

“That’s not the only thing.” Keith eventually gathers the courage to say, and Shiro pauses for a second, eyebrows twitching, but he’s silent, patiently waiting for Keith to continue. He gives a small nod after a moment of Keith staring up at him silently, thinking about how to say this. “I’m trans.”

It’s blurted out, and not at all how he wanted to go about telling Shiro, the man currently shirtless with disheveled hair above him, but it’s out, and Keith holds his breath, awaiting the worst.

Shiro blinks a couple times, but then he smiles, and Keith forgets how to breathe entirely.

Shiro’s then leaning down and kissing Keith, and it’s a shock, Keith making an odd and surprised sound into the kiss, and Shiro pulls back with a short chuckle.

“Thank you for trusting me, for telling me that.” His face goes serious, forehead pressed to Keith’s. “You’re so amazing, I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to know someone as beautiful as you.”

Keith’s at a loss for words, can feel the way his eyes grow wet, the way his breath hitches, and Shiro just kisses him again, shushing him while whispering praises against his lips.

He reaches down and grips at Keith’s hip, thumb rubbing circles into the skin in a way that has Keith sighing, eyes fluttering and hands lifting to cup Shiro’s jaw. They kiss with small smacking sounds, parting lips and tentatively exploring the others’ mouth with tongues.

Keith may have gotten a bit too enthusiastic at times, sucking at Shiro’s tongue until there’s saliva dripping down their chins, but Shiro doesn’t seem to mind, just tilts his head and lets Keith lead.

They stay like that awhile, until Keith manages to swap their places, with Shiro lying back and Keith sitting astride him, braced on his forearms either side of Shiro’s head, trailing tentative kisses along the man’s throat, sucking softly. He looks up every now and then, searching Shiro’s gaze for something telling him he’s doing this wrong, but Shiro lets out these small sighs, hand coming up to card through Keith’s hair, and he hums, smiling at Keith.

This whole ordeal is surreal. Keith never thought in a million years that this would be happening. But he’d also thought that about the apocalypse.

A surge of heat shoots from his navel downward when Shiro lets out a groan at Keith’s antics, and Keith can’t help the cant of his hips while he sucks a mark under Shiro’s collarbone, moaning softly. The sound doesn’t go unnoticed by Shiro, nor does the motion of Keith’s hips, and he reaches down to hold them, fingertips idly sliding beneath the waistband over Keith’s ass but otherwise not delving any further than that.

“Is the reason you’re marking me lower because you don’t want the others to see?” Shiro asks, his voice suddenly loud in their shared space, and Keith retaliates by nipping at the skin of Shiro’s collarbone, hearing the mirth in the other man’s voice.

“Just felt like marking here…” Keith replies, sitting up once deeming his hickey satisfactory, the small patch of skin dark pink, almost red. He looks down at Shiro, bracing his hands upon impressive pectoral muscles, and biting at his somewhat swollen lip.

Shiro stares back at him, tilting his head back into the pillow and smiling lazily, eyes tracking up and down Keith appreciatively, the motion making Keith’s ears go pink.

“You’re beautiful.” Shiro says, voice low enough to send a shiver through Keith, hands tightening their grasp on his hips.

“Not so bad, yourself…” Keith replies, his voice equally as low. “I think I’m through with foreplay.” He suddenly says, or rather decides, rolling away from his position atop Shiro to tug at his pants, bringing them down and flinging them off, onto the backseat before he’s glancing at Shiro’s undone fly, tentatively reaching forward, and Shiro meets him halfway.

“Keith, are you sure?” He’s placed a hand atop Keith’s, where it rests between the open material of his jeans, pressed to tight grey boxer-briefs that houses the prize Keith wants to see, and to feel.

“I’m sure.” Keith says, looking Shiro dead in the eye, determined, albeit faux-confident. Shiro gives a small nod, before he’s sitting up and removing the pants himself, until the two are sitting there in nothing but boxers, and Keith’s not sure how to proceed.

“You’re shaking…” Shiro points out, drawing Keith close and wrapping his arms around the smaller of the two’s back, and Keith wraps his legs around Shiro’s waist, sitting snug in his lap and belatedly realising that he is in fact shaking, from the chill or nerves, he can’t tell. “We’ll only go as far as you want to…” Shiro assures him, and Keith nods slowly, inhaling shakily.

“I want this…I want you.” Shiro nods in turn, holding Keith’s chin in a gentle grip between his thumb and forefinger, tilting his head and kissing him slow, the sensation enough to have Keith’s toes curling, his breath hitching.

Shiro then lies Keith down on his back, looming over him once more and dipping down to kiss at Keith’s neck, trailing them over his chest and lower until he’s reached the dark hair beneath Keith’s navel, pausing with his lips to the skin and looking up at Keith with dark eyes.

“Can I put my mouth on you?” Shiro asks, lips moving against the sensitive skin of Keith’s lower stomach, and he gasps, watching as Shiro’s hands raise to run their fingertips along the waistband of Keith’s boxers.

“I’m not very…” Keith pauses, swallowing thickly with pink cheeks. “Groomed.” He admits, but Shiro just smirks, shifting to kiss Keith’s hip, then back toward his waistband.

“I don’t care about stuff like that. I just want to make you feel good.” Shiro says, his voice sounding as if it’s been dipped in honey, low and smooth, sweet. It’s enough to have Keith throbbing in the confines of his boxers. “I want to know what sounds you’ll make when I get my mouth on your cock…” He continues, and Keith whimpers, feeling Shiro’s fingers carefully stroke over the front of his underwear, delving into the dip where the material gives just below his small, tenting erection, where the fabric is no doubt almost soaked, proof of his arousal.

“Shiro…” Keith gasps, hips bucking, and in turn, allowing Shiro’s fingers to press up against the underside of his dick, causing Keith to throw his head back.

“Want you to ride my face, fuck my mouth.” Keith’s shaking for an entirely different reason now, and Shiro’s tugging Keith’s boxers downward, not enough to have Keith completely exposed, but enough to reveal more coarse hair leading down over his mound, and Shiro licks his lips.

This is a whole different side of Shiro that Keith never imagined he’d get to experience. The man is always so kind and sweet, sometimes shy, personality traits that Keith didn’t expect would change dramatically when it came to the bedroom. Or, in this case, the back of the van.

“Shiro,” Keith says again, and the man in question looks up at him, pupils blown wide and lips slick, slightly swollen. He smiles easily up at Keith, and Keith forgets how to breathe, not for the first time in the span of an hour, at the sight.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Lie back.” Keith says, tries to make it sound commanding, but his voice cracks softly at the end, and Shiro merely nods, softening his expression before him and Keith are swapping places once again. “Did you mean it?” Keith asks, fingers toying with his waistband, and he straddles Shiro’s chest, much to the man’s pleasant surprise.

“That I want you to ride my face?” Shiro asks, and Keith nods slowly, exhaling shakily.

“Yeah…”

Shiro reaches up and cups Keith’s cheek, and the gesture is tame, considering what Keith is about to do, but Shiro is giving him a reassuring smile, a small tilt of his head and a muttered; “Of course I meant it, Keith.” And it’s enough for Keith to nod once, determined, before he’s shifting to remove his underwear, trying not to show just how terrified he is when Shiro’s gaze drops to between his legs.

Shiro groans softly, hands going to Keith’s hip, to his thigh, and drawing him in, and all Keith can do is follow his lead, until he’s perched above Shiro’s face, looking down at the man whose mouth he can no longer see, but who’s looking up at him all the same. He’s staring back at Keith, eyes heavy, before he’s closing them and pulling Keith down and onto his face, onto his mouth.

Keith barely covers his mouth with a hand before he’s shouting Shiro’s name.

Keith’s hips buck unconsciously, and Shiro moans beneath him, tongue working it’s way through Keith’s slick folds to his entrance, top lip catching at Keith’s dick before he’s shifting enough to focus on just that, wrapping his lips around that little swollen erection. He sucks languidly, seemingly ignoring Keith’s cries above him, muffled little by his hands. The man sobs, inhaling shakily and rolling his hips atop Shiro’s mouth, dropping his hands to lean forward, his hands wet with sweat and saliva as they grip the pillow.

His abdomen is taut, tense muscle, and it burns, everything burns so good while Shiro works at him with his skilled tongue, and Keith can’t seem to shut up. He knows he should, knows the van is only so soundproof and that there are still Corpses out there, and that if he were too loud, they could gather around and try get to them.

 _What a way to go,_ Keith thinks fleetingly, _at least I won’t be dying a complete virgin._

Keith’s train of thought is knocked right off of its tracks when Shiro raises an arm, cupping Keith’s ass with a large palm and using his middle finger to rub over first Keith’s pucker, pressing lightly in a way that has Keith gasping before he’s delving deeper and into slick wetness. His finger catches at Keith’s cunt, dipping inside in a taste of what’s to come, thrusting shallowly enough to have Keith involuntarily clenching, trying to get that intrusion deeper.

Shiro taps Keith’s thigh with his free hand, and Keith rises on shaky knees, looking down at Shiro with a whimper, noting how his mouth and chin are covered in slick, enough for the small amount of light coming in from the windscreen to catch upon it and making it shine.

“Your cunt is go greedy,” Shiro says, and his voice is deep, his tongue comes out to lick his lips. “Do you want my fingers in you?”

“Please…” Keith says it in a whisper, his voice shaky, and Shiro just smiles up at him.

“Lay back for me, baby, I’ll give you what you need.”

He does just that, and Shiro makes do on his promise, lifting one of Keith’s legs over the crook of his elbow, shifting forward and rubbing his fingers an inch away from where Keith needs them, teasing until Keith’s letting out a small whimper, saying in a pleading tone; “Takashi…”

That seems to do the trick.

Shiro first pushes in his middle finger, thrusting it shallowly until Keith’s gasping, before he’s adding a second, moving them quick enough that Keith’s mouth falls agape and he moans, head tilted back to stare at the roof of the van.

Small slick squelches sound from where Shiro’s hand is moving between Keith’s legs, the noise enough to have Keith biting his lip, almost embarrassed, but then Shiro is leaning down and kissing at his bared throat, nipping softly in a way that has Keith seeing double.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Shiro says, lips brushing Keith’s skin when he talks, before he’s shifting upward to look down at Keith, and he meets Shiro’s heated gaze with a shaky smile. “I never want to stop touching you, just want you to feel good, you deserve to feel good.”

“‘Kashi…” Keith whispers, gasping into their shared space, feeling overwhelmed.

“I like that,” Shiro murmurs, kissing the corner of Keith’s mouth. “You should call me that more often…say it again.”

“‘Kashi…” Keith says again, and Shiro slips in another finger, causing Keith to cry out. _“‘Kashi!”_

“That’s it, baby. Fuck, you’re so good for me.”

Keith whimpers, turning his head into the pillow with a gasp as his toes curl and his thighs shake. Shiro lifts a hand to his chin, carefully turning Keith’s face to meet his again.

“Don’t hide, baby.” He says, voice low. “I want to see you.”

Keith chews at his lip, exhaling shakily through his nose. He watches Shiro’s gaze drop to his mouth, and he stops biting at his lip, letting them part instead, just as Shiro dips down and kisses him.

“‘Kashi-” Keith gasps into Shiro’s mouth, sucking at his lip, and Shiro groans, pulling back to look down at Keith with heavy eyes, licking his lips slowly.

“What is it, baby?” Shiro asks, looming over Keith, panting slightly, and the sight has Keith swallowing thickly, spreading his legs in a way that has Shiro’s gaze dropping pointedly downward before he’s meeting Keith’s eyes again.

“I want you…” Keith whispers, voice shaky with palpable nerves, but Shiro just ducks down and kisses him again, carefully removing his fingers from inside Keith, making the man shudder and clench around air.

Shiro shushes him, knuckles stroking softly down the side of Keith’s face, and he looks down between them, Keith’s gaze following only to watch as Shiro pulls down his own boxers, and Keith can’t help but stare, feeling himself throb. Shiro strokes himself a couple times, shifting forward and lining himself up, looking back up at Keith; a silent question.

“Please…” Keith gasps, voice quiet, and he looks down again, biting his lip as Shiro pushes forward, nudging at his slick entrance. “Fuck,”

“I got you,” Shiro says, cupping the back of Keith’s skull, pressing their foreheads together and carefully pressing forward and into Keith. “Fuck, I got you, Keith-”

“‘Kashi-” Keith moans, it’s barely the head inside, but he already feels so much, his entire being aflame with desire for the man above him.

“Keith…” Shiro groans in turn, lifting Keith’s leg to wrap around him, which Keith does eagerly, holding onto Shiro’s shoulder, the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss consisting mostly of tongue, Keith panting against Shiro’s lips with small whimpers.

It’s a slow slide, and it feels like it takes an eternity for Shiro to bottom out, but it’s worth it, and Keith shivers at the sensations, split open by the man above him.

He has to suppress a cry, grateful as Shiro swallows his sounds, holding him close and rocking his hips oh so slightly. Each motion knocks the breath out of Keith, his fingers digging into Shiro’s shoulders, leaving crescent indents in their wake.

Shiro doesn’t mind, holding Keith in his arms while he slowly thrusts in and out, exhaling heavily through his nose, the tight pressure of Keith around him almost too much.

They stay that way for a few moments, until Keith’s breath hitches, and he slides a hand down to feel the bump of Shiro’s cock inside him, his lower stomach distending with it. Shiro watches his movements, realising what he’s doing and grunts, picking up his pace.

“Fuck me…” Keith gasps, reaching down further still to rub at his cock, clenching rhythmically around Shiro, close to cumming.

“Okay, baby.” Shiro grips the underside of Keith’s thighs, lifting his legs some before he’s thrusting faster still, his hips flexing, and the sound of skin on skin echoes throughout the enclosed space of the back of the van, mixed with Keith’s stuttering moans and short gasps.

“‘Ka-shi!” Keith pants, fingers on the hand still clutching at Shiro’s shoulder flexing, his other hand pausing in his rubbing to spread his folds, feeling Shiro sliding in and out smoothly against his fingers as he holds himself open, mouth agape with the overwhelming sensations.

Shiro groans, leaning down and kissing Keith, reaching a hand up to cup Keith’s cheek, sucking on his lip softly.

“I got you, baby…” Shiro whispers, tilting his head. He rocks forward, and Keith sobs with pleasure, clenching rhythmically around Shiro.

“Shiro, I’m close…” He murmurs, and Shiro nods, gripping at Keith’s hip and rocking harder, making sure to thrust against that spot that has Keith’s head tilting back with a long, drawn out moan, cumming with a shout and clamping his legs tight around Shiro’s waist, squeezing his eyes shut.

Shiro kisses down Keith’s exposed neck, slowing his thrusts considerably, Keith whimpering in sensitivity once he’s finished, and Shiro pulls out slowly. Keith’s gaze drops to where Shiro’s stroking himself, his cock slick with Keith’s cum, and he makes a small sound that has Shiro meeting his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, panting, and Keith can tell he’s close himself, if the way his eyebrows are furrowed, his own mouth falling open to release a short moan is any indication.

“I…” Keith swallows thickly. “I want you to finish inside me…”

“ _Fuck,_ Keith-” Shiro shifts forward, and Keith easily spreads his legs, pulling Shiro close and granting him access to thrust inside, groaning into Keith’s neck as he cums almost instantly, Keith clenching around him to help him through it, moaning at the sensation of Shiro filling him up, despite how sensitive he is from his own climax.

They stay that way a while, Shiro holding himself up on shaky forearms to stop himself from collapsing on top of Keith, panting into the crook of where Keith’s neck meets his shoulder.

Keith stares at the ceiling of the van, feeling sticky with sweat and cum, but he’s never felt so good in his _life_.

Shiro pulls back slowly, head down, and he exhales heavily, lifting his head to look at Keith.

“Are you okay?” He asks, voice hoarse, and Keith nods, reaching up to card his fingers through Shiro’s fringe, the strands having stuck to his forehead with sweat. It makes Shiro smile softly, exhaling a small laugh, lifting a hand to touch Keith’s.

They both stare at one another, Shiro still inside Keith, soft, and leaking cum and slick alike. Shiro then leans down, slowly, capturing Keith’s lips in a gentle kiss, and Keith sighs into it.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Shiro whispers against Keith’s lips, and Keith can’t help the twitch they give, giddy with the praise, basking in his afterglow. Shiro smiles in turn, pulling back to look down at Keith. “Maybe we should clean up…”

Keith huffs, but realises Shiro’s right, the mess between his legs growing cold and uncomfortable, and he grimaces.

“Yeah, okay.”

They clean up and get dressed in comfortable silence, Keith blushing when Shiro wipes clean the mess between his thighs, and they quickly climb out the back of the van, getting into the front with only a few Corpses glancing their way, staggering toward them as Shiro drives off.

 

* * *

 

Keith doesn’t flinch anymore when blood hits his face or oozes over his hands, up his arms. He doesn’t hesitate before piercing his sword through the skull of yet another undead being. They’ve long since passed that, Keith can’t remember the last time he felt anything while killing Living Corpses.

It’s just become second nature to everyone, knowing to get the brain, take these _things_ out before they get you.

They’ve lost people. Friends. Family. People they knew in passing. They’ve all turned into a living corpse or have been eaten by them.

It’s just how the world is now.

Keith counts himself lucky, he’s in a small group, Keith’s with his friends, people he’s known for years, and people he’s met only through this shitstorm but has grown strong bonds with.

They have a camp, three RV’s near a lake, a large one with clear water. Pidge, Hunk and Coran had worked with their engineer and tech genius minds together and built water filters, purifiers, and traps for fish and deer.

They live as good as they can in these conditions, are much more fortunate than others.

They have weekly supply runs, making their way into the deserted towns and scavenging for weapons and ammo, medical supplies and non-perishables.

Those are the most dangerous days, the motors of the bikes they ride, of the vans they drive, easily attract the attention of the Corpses. They all fight hard those days, very rarely returning to camp without blood dripping from their respective weapons and staining their clothes. Fresh blood, as fresh as coagulated and dark, red and rotting blood can be, anyway.

Today was one of those days, a hard fought battle in which Pidge almost got bit. She was shooting, concentrating on her twelve and didn’t notice the corpse at her six until Lance shot at it’s legs briefly, warning her as it dropped by her feet, grabbing at her ankle and baring it’s rotting teeth.

She’d managed to shoot its brains out, but not before it ripped her knee-high sock, not before it almost pulled at the flesh of her leg.

It was a close call, they were all shaken, more so than usual, but they’d made it back in one piece, save Pidge’s sock.

Keith thinks about this now, standing under the lukewarm spray of water in the RV’s tiny shower and cleaning the blood and dirt from under his fingernails, from his hair.

When Keith’s done, he steps out of the Vehicle’s equivalent to a bathroom, towel drying his hair while his eyes fall onto Shiro, who’s lounging on the bed in nothing but an old pair of sweatpants, the thinning material leaving nothing to the imagination. He’s reading a book, one of the novels they brought along to pass time.

There’s leftover adrenalin running through Keith, will be for an hour or so to come, so Keith does what he usually does in this kind of situation. Decides to release that energy, put it to good use.

Removing the muscle shirt he’d thrown on after showering, Keith throws it aside, ruffling his hair with the towel one more time before throwing that aside, also. Shiro doesn’t budge, merely turning the page and reading still, even as Keith clambers onto the bed, his boxers stretching over his thighs when he straddles Shiro’s thighs.

“Keith,” Shiro drops the book some, enough to look over it and at Keith. Keith hums in response, shifting on Shiro’s lap and sitting comfortably. “What’re you up to?”

“I’m horny.” Shiro huffs and Keith frowns, rolling his hips and trying his damnedest hardest to rile the man up. “Want you to fuck me. Where’s Lance?”

“Went to Hunk and Pidge’s,” Shiro says, putting his book aside and gripping at Keith’s hips. “Said something about returning a book, he left not thirty seconds before you came out the shower.”

Keith hums, shifting forward, a hand either side of Shiro’s head, and ruts against him. Shiro’s grip tightens some, and Keith sighs, eyes fluttering when he gets a nice rhythm going, can feel Shiro hardening.

“Whadaya say? You wanna fuck me?”

Shiro makes an affirmative sound, and they’re suddenly making quick work of Keith’s boxers and flinging them overhead while Keith tugs down Shiro’s pants.

Keith grabs the lube and hastily fingers himself open, the motions hurried enough that he winces, and Shiro has to get him to slow down, kissing languidly at his neck, over fading hickeys, trailing his hands over Keith. He tugs Keith’s hand, removing his fingers from himself and replacing them with his own, slowly fucking Keith open with first one, then two fingers, until Keith is writhing atop him.

“Please, Shiro, I’m ready…” But Shiro just shakes his head, kissing Keith’s shoulder.

“Not yet, you’re not.”

It’s another ten or so minutes until Shiro’s satisfied, enough to let a squirming Keith slick up Shiro’s erection and line him up, sliding down and onto him with a drawn out moan.

They’ve done this a handful of times, the idea of sex these days is that if they have some downtime, and are in the mood, they’d just do it.

Keith was one of those people who had plans for their first time. He wanted it to be special, wanted a candlelit atmosphere and a bubble bath. He’d fantasised about his partner taking hours just kissing him and telling him they loved him.

Instead his first time was spent with Shiro in the back of a van. It was after a particularly terrifying near-death experience that ended with Shiro ripping a Corpse off of him, shooting its head practically clean off and dragging Keith into the vehicle. He’d checked Keith over, making sure the blood on his arms and clothes was from a corpse and not his own before they’d started kissing. It’d just escalated from there, but Keith doesn’t regret it.

The adrenalin was high and the time felt right then, and it feels right now.

Letting out a low whine, Keith continues to lower himself until Shiro’s buried to the hilt, his sheer girth makes Keith mouth drop open in an unabashed pant, hands grasping for purchase in the sheets. Shiro’s hands run up his sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake and emitting shivers from Keith.

He rocks back and forth, getting used to the stretch, he stares down at Shiro, eyes roaming the flushed face, the still healing scar across his nose, his once black hair now flecked with white within his fringe. Keith can’t help but smile at that, all the stress everyone’s been through lately, and Shiro’s getting white hair before Coran is.

Shiro notices him smiling and raises an eyebrow, thrusting upward sharply enough for Keith’s smile to drop into a stunned expression, and he keens, fists clenching and hips bucking.

“‘Kashi- _fuck!”_

“That’s it, baby…” Shiro coos, gripping Keith’s hips and slowly lifting him up and down on Shiro’s cock, fucking into him thorough and deep. “So good for me, so tight.”

Keith makes a sound akin to a whimper, biting his lip harshly, then releasing it to pant, bouncing in Shiro’s lap, gripping at his shoulders.

They’re both sat up against the headboard, with Keith’s dick pushing against Shiro’s lower stomach, and he looks down at it, sliding his fingers down to dip into his slick entrance, and it makes him jerk, clenching impossibly tight around Shiro, making him grunt in turn.

“Fuck, baby…” Shiro grabs the back of Keith’s head, tugging him forward to meet him in a deep kiss, interrupted part way through by an annoyingly insistent rapping at the door.

“Guys,” Lance says, the handle turning slowly. “You have ten seconds to cover up, Pidge is with me.”

“Put your dicks away, I need to find some stuff.” Pidge then says, and Shiro’s head thumps back against the wall with an irritated sigh, and Keith grumbles, pulling at the duvet and wrapping it around himself and Shiro, ensuring they’re covered up just as the door opens.

Lance walks in first. “Wow guys,” he says with a slight smirk. “That’s not obvious at all.”

Pidge follows him in and determinedly looks anywhere but at Shiro and Keith, who are sitting stock-still, following her movements and watching as she rummages through the cabinets, pulling out random chunks of metal and some tools, before she quickly leaves, pulling the door shut behind her.

“Well then.” Lance says, leant against the small kitchen counter. “You may continue now that the child has gone.”

Lance gives the two a wink before going and climbing up the small ladder leading to his single bed above Shiro and Keith’s shared bed, pulling the makeshift curtain he’d installed aside to climb in, then pulling it back across.

Keith and Shiro sit there for a few moments, unsure as how to go about continuing, until Keith drops the duvet slowly, smiling at Shiro and rolling his hips. It pulls a short groan from Shiro, and that’s that.

“Fuck,” Keith moans, Shiro rolling his hips upward expertly and rubbing Keith in all the right ways, drawing a gasp from him. “Shiro…”

“Yeah,” Is all he replies, gruff, his hands gripping at Keith’s thighs, kneading into the supple skin, emitting goosebumps. “We should finish quickly, Lance-”

“I don’t care.” Keith interrupts, sitting up until just the tip of Shiro’s dick remains inside him before sitting down heavily, repeating the action a few times, their skin slapping together. “It’s just Lance…”

“I’m honoured you’re talking about me during copulation,” Lance suddenly says, and Keith glances upward. “I heard my name twice just now, almost as if you want me to join or something.”

Keith scoffs slightly, grinding on Shiro whose fingers dig almost harshly into his thighs, sure to leave tender spots come morning.

“You wish.” Keith replies, breathless, and hears Lance chuckle.

By this point Keith’s looked away from the curtain separating them and Lance, and is instead leant forward kissing Shiro.

Their mouths smack together softly, and Shiro groans when Keith sucks on his tongue, and it makes his eyes flutter open, only to catch movement in his peripheral vision.

He glances up, still kissing Shiro, and sees Lance watching them, gnawing at his lip, he meets Keith’s gaze and smiles, winking.

Keith pulls back from Shiro, furrowing his brow in slight confusion.

“You really wanna join, huh?” He asks, and Shiro opens his eyes, following Keith’s gaze. Lance just shrugs, his line of sight dropping shamelessly lower, and Keith rolls his hips for show, pulling a small groan from Lance.

“Yeah, I kinda do…only if you’re cool with it. Just say the word and I’ll leave.” He looks back up, between Keith and Shiro’s faces, shrugging again. “Just thought it could be fun.”

Keith feels Shiro’s stare on his face, and he meets the man’s eyes. “Up to you, baby.” He says, and Keith chews at the inside of his cheek, lifting a lone shoulder.

“Sure.” He says simply. “Don’t go thinking this will become a regular ordeal, though.”

Lance quickly climbs down from his bed, the sight almost comical, before he’s standing before Shiro and Keith, almost bouncing on his feet in anticipation.

“Of course, of course- how do you want me?” He asks, excited, and it makes Keith huff a laugh before he’s lifting off of Shiro’s dick with a small moan.

“Pass the tissues.” He says, pointing vaguely behind Lance, who turns around quickly, almost tumbling over, grabbing the box of Kleenex and chucking them onto the bed. Keith grabs one and wipes the excess lube off of Shiro’s cock, leaning forward and kissing him slowly.

He then lines Shiro up with his cunt, slowly sliding down, slick enough to take him in one go, shivering at the sensation.

Lance stands aside obediently all the while, awaiting further instruction, evident erection tenting his pants.

Once Keith’s settled he looks over to him, inclining his head.

“Strip.” He says, and Lance does so without a word, chucking his clothes onto the floor. “Come up here and fuck me.” Keith then says, and Lance clambers onto the bed behind Keith, who hands him the lube.

Coating his dick vigorously, Lance shuffles forward, lining up with Keith’s stretched hole and rubbing the head against it a few times, not yet pushing forward.

“This okay?” He asks, exhaling shakily, and Keith stares down at Shiro, who runs his large hand up Keith’s stomach in a soothing gesture.

“Yeah,” He says, breathless, leaning forward and more into Shiro, giving Lance more room. “This is fine.”

With that, Lance pushes forward and into Keith, groaning low, and Keith gasps, leaning forward to kiss Shiro with a moan, feeling overly stuffed with a dick in each hole.

“Fuck, you’re tight-” Lance says, pelvis pressed snug against Keith’s ass, and Shiro grunts, brow furrowed.

“You are,” He agrees, fingers carding through Keith’s hair. “You okay?”

“Dandy,” Keith pants, unconsciously clenching around the two cocks inside him, eyes fluttering at the sensation of them rubbing against his walls just right. He feels like nothing more than a sheath made to give Shiro and Lance pleasure, but he doesn’t feel it in a degrading sense, rather the opposite. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Keith says, voice hoarse, thinking aloud to no one in particular.

Lance seems to appreciate the praise all the same, pulling out slowly only to slide back in, gradually building pace, settling into a deep thorough grind. Shiro just thrusts his hips carefully, hands running up Keith’s thighs, tickling at the soft hair as it stands up with goosebumps, thumbs caressing the creases of Keith’s thighs, inching inward to spread his folds, eyeing his own cock sliding in and out of Keith’s wet cunt, Keith watching his face all the while.

“Like what you see?” He hums, reaching a hand down to spread himself further for Shiro, hearing the small slapping sounds of his and Shiro’s thighs meeting, of Lance thrusting forward. He’s so slick, close to cumming, can feel his cock throbbing.

Shiro groans, nodding his head slowly, one hand reaching up to stroke Keith’s dick, and Keith gasps, placing his hands on Shiro’s pecs, rolling his hips as best he can.

“I’m close-” Lance says, and Keith nods, whimpering when Lance’s thrusts lose rhythm, his hips stuttering against Keith’s ass until he’s stilling, and Keith feels the warmth as it fills him, the feeling making him gasp, clenching to essentially milk Lance of what he has to offer, making the man grunt.

He pulls out slowly, spreading Keith’s cheeks to watch his cum slowly ooze from Keith’s ass, before he backs off, letting Shiro and Keith finish.

With Lance out of the way, Shiro bends his legs, with his feet planted firmly on the mattress, using it as leverage to thrust up quick and rough into Keith, the two making a pleasured sound in tandem, Keith’s head thrown back.

“Cum on my cock, baby,” Shiro says, voice low, and Keith sobs, hands flexing on Shiro’s chest and he pants unabashed, atop him, bouncing his hips with vigour, growing nearer and nearer to orgasm. “Want to feel you.” Shiro continues, and Keith’s mouth drops open, his cunt pulsing around Shiro’s girth as he cums, making everything impossibly wetter, slicker, the sounds of skin on skin even more prominent.

Shiro groans, thrusts slowing considerably until he’s grinding deep into Keith, who keens with oversensitivity, cumming in thick spurts inside him.

“Fuck, ‘Kashi…” Keith gasps, and Shiro moans in turn, hands coming up to smooth up and down Keith’s sides soothingly, and the two come down from their high slowly.

“That was really…something.” Lance suddenly says, and Keith rips his gaze from Shiro, looking over to Lance who’s leant casually against the kitchenette counter, in his boxers, sipping from a cup of water. “Thanks for letting me join.” He inclines his head, raising his cup, and Keith shakes his head slowly.

“You’re ridiculous.”

Lance just scoffs.

“Is that any way to talk to the guy that just fucked you good?” Lance raises an eyebrow, but Keith shakes his head again.

“I fucked _you_ , Lance. Shiro fucked me.”

The man seems to ponder that for a second, opening his mouth to retort before he closes it, half nodding. “You’re right. Thanks for fucking me.” He raises his cup again, before downing its contents. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get my beauty sleep.” Lance gives the two other men finger guns before he’s climbing up the ladder that leads into his bunk, pulling the curtain across without another word.

Keith looks back down at Shiro only to notice the man already staring at him. “What?” He asks, defensive, but Shiro just smiles.

“You’re beautiful.” Is all he says in reply, and Keith ducks his head, unable to help the small shy smile that pulls at his lip at the praise.

After that, both Shiro and Keith manage to (miraculously) fit into the shower together, making quick work of cleaning up before they’re snuggling into bed, Keith wearing one of Shiro’s hoodies and cuddling up to his side, Shiro’s arm wrapping around him as they both drift off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Lance sometimes joined from then on, not all the time, but there were a couple more instances where he’d walk in while Shiro and Keith were too absorbed in the other to notice until Lance would make his presence known.

Sometimes Keith or Shiro would say no, and Lance would respect that, either leaving the RV or climbing up onto his bed, putting on headphones.

The odd time they’d say yes, however, and Lance would then join in their fun.

He never fucked Keith again, opting instead for Keith to use his hands or mouth on him and in turn, used his hands on Keith.

What they had going seemed to work, they all just wanted to get off, they’re only human.

Keith never thought anything much of it, thinking it was all a casual ordeal. That is, until he’d given Lance a blowjob when Shiro was out.

His main reasoning was to get Lance to shut up, the man just kept going on and on about how he hadn’t gotten his rocks off in what felt like months, when in reality it had barely been two weeks.

“Fucking hell Lance,” He’d muttered, shutting the book he was reading as angrily as one can close a book, chucking it aside and sitting up. “If I suck your dick will you shut up?”

Lance had lazily smirked, waggling his eyebrows. “Gonna do that with Shiro not here? Keith, you player.”

He’d merely scoffed, not quite understanding what Lance was getting at as he’d knelt before him, reaching up to undo his belt. “Stop talking.”

Lance had stopped talking, and instead had gripped Keith’s hair and groaned.

It was when Keith was pulling back, standing to spit Lance’s cum into the small sink that Shiro suddenly walked in, and stopped in his tracks.

“Sup, big guy.” Lance said, his voice cheery, and Keith rinsed out his mouth, side eyeing Shiro.

“Hey,” He said once his mouth was clean, smiling softly at Shiro. The sentiment wasn’t returned. “Shiro?”

“Can I talk with you?” Shiro suddenly said, eyes flicking to Lance, his expression guarded. “Alone.”

“Shit,” Lance raised his hands in surrender, stepping around Shiro cautiously and exiting the RV quickly. Keith could only raise his eyebrow.

“Shiro, hey, what’s wrong?” He makes to step toward the other man, but Shiro takes a step back, and he looks pissed.

“What’s _wrong?_ ” He asks, voice clipped, and Keith flinches at his tone, lowering his hand from where he’d gone to raise it and touch Shiro’s arm. “I just walked in on you finishing up sucking Lance’s dick and you ask me what’s wrong?” He continues, incredulous, and Keith furrows his eyebrows, confused.

“I don’t know…” Is all he says, and Shiro scoffs, stomping past Keith to sit heavily on the edge of their shared bed, his head in his hands.

“How long has this been going on…” Shiro sounds dejected, and Keith’s so confused, he doesn’t know what’s happening. “How long, Keith?” Shiro raises his head, repeating himself when Keith doesn’t answer. “How long have you and Lance been fucking?”

 _“What?”_ Keith turns to face Shiro fully. “We- Shiro, you’ve been _there!”_ Keith waves an arm out, his gesture vague. “So I dunno, it’s happened maybe about three times? Why are you getting so worked up over this?”

“Has he fucked you while I haven’t been there?” Shiro asks, standing, looming over Keith and making the man have to tilt his head up to be able to meet Shiro’s eyes.

“What- Shiro, no- you’ve been there every time- the _one time_ he’s fucked me…”

“Are you sure? Because I wasn’t here just now.” Shiro doesn’t look angry anymore so much as he just looks sad, and it pains Keith to see. “What are you two?”

“Shiro, we’re nothing. He wouldn’t shut up about wanting to get off, and all I wanted was for him to shut the _fuck_ up, that was all, I swear.”

“But you didn’t think to ask me?”

That gives Keith pause.

“Shiro, it didn’t mean anything, like this entire thing. It’s casual, okay? Just friends helping out friends.”

Keith watches as a flash of what looks like _hurt_ takes over Shiro’s face, before he just looks pissed again.

“So that’s it? That’s all we are?”

“Shiro…”

“No, Keith.” Shiro interrupts, shaking his head. “I thought we had something, but apparently not. Apparently you just share your first time with a friend.”

“Shiro, no, that’s not what I-”

“Meant?” He finishes, shrugging. “It’s okay Keith, really. I just thought we had something different, that’s all. You know, I really care for you, and I thought just maybe you felt the same.”

“I do. Shiro, _please,_ ” Keith grabs Shiro’s arm, and the man in question looks down at his hand, not moving. “I’m just scared.” Shiro looks up at him, then, and Keith exhales shakily, hating that he can feel that telltale sting in his eyes. “I told myself I wasn’t going to fall for anyone when this all started. I’ve already lost my sister, and each day we’re going out there- and we’re all risking our lives.”

Shiro’s expression softens, and he raises the arm Keith’s not holding onto to touch Keith’s hip.

“I just…I’m terrified, Shiro. I care about you, almost too much, and I’m so scared of losing you…” Dropping his head, Keith sucks in a sharp breath, watching Shiro’s chest expand slowly with his breathing. “I’m sorry about…about doing that, with Lance, I just…I didn’t think you’d mind so much, I’m so, so sorry.” He looks back up, meeting Shiro’s gaze head on. “I promise I won’t do it again. I-”

Keith’s stopped when Shiro leans down and kisses him, the gesture gentle, and it has Keith’s eyes fluttering, his hands coming up to cup Shiro’s jaw. They pull away after a moment, their foreheads pressed together.

“I forgive you…but only under one condition,”

“Anything,” Keith gasps.

“From now on, I just want it to be you and me. Every time Lance would join us, you don’t realise just how jealous I got. And when he made you cum, I hated it. I want to be enough for you, I want to be the only one to make you feel that good.” Shiro practically growls, and it has Keith’s head spinning. “I want you to be _mine,_ just you and me, together.”

Keith nods, tilting his head to chase Shiro’s lips, moaning when Shiro sucks on his tongue, shifting closer and deepening their kiss further still.

“I’m yours,” Keith pants, hands scrabbling for purchase along Shiro’s front, gripping at the material of the vest he wore. “Only yours, want you to be mine-”

“I’m yours, baby.” Shiro replies, voice low, before him and Keith are stumbling toward the bed, clothes hazardously flung aside while Shiro kisses his way down Keith’s body, until Keith’s throwing his head back with a shout of Shiro’s name.

 

* * *

 

“I’ll see you soon, baby.” Shiro kisses Keith, it’s chaste, and has Keith smiling even as he watches Shiro and Matt get into one of the vans and drive off, Pidge lowering the barrier for them.

Keith’s stood there with his arms folded, watching the van grow smaller and smaller the further it gets, headed down the winding mountain road until it disappears.

“You and Shiro, huh?” Keith turns with a shy smile as Krolia appears at his side, giving him a look that’s both parts “I told you so” and “I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah…” Keith can’t help the huff of a laugh when he exhales, and Krolia laughs in turn, wrapping an arm around Keith’s shoulder, jostling him some.

“My boy’s all grown up…” She dramatically sniffs, lifting a hand to wipe under her eyes, as if wiping away tears and Keith nudges her, rolling his eyes.

“Mum, stop. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Oh?” Krolia ducks her head, meeting Keith’s averted gaze. “It’s not?” She doesn’t believe Keith, no one would upon seeing the way Keith and Shiro look at one another.

There’s no way Keith would call this love. It’s too soon for that, and if he did say that, it’d be too much, and Keith’s not ready for that emotional commitment, not during trying times such as these.

“No, it’s been…something, for a while.” He admits, drawing out the words slowly and then winces upon seeing the smile that steadily creeps onto Krolia’s face. “Don’t make it weird.” Keith quickly adds, just as his mother lets out a dramatic “Ooh.”

Keith groans, folding his arms across his chest tighter when Krolia squeezes his shoulder, laughing.

“Hey, Keith!” Pidge suddenly calls from the tree line, and Keith turns to look her way, glad to have a reason to stop talking about himself and Shiro with his mum for a moment.

“Yeah?” He calls back, and Pidge points at something he can’t quite see.

“You any good at gutting deer? We’re having venison tonight!”

Krolia drops her arm from Keith, and he smiles at her, raising his arms in a guilty shrug. “Duty calls, mum. I’ll see you later.”

Krolia just shakes her head, smiling at Keith and folding her arms, cocking a hip. “Okay, but we’re talking more about this later-”

“Bye mum, love you!” Keith yells, blowing a kiss Krolia’s way before heading over to Pidge, who just smirks at him, handing Keith a butchering knife that he takes easily, flipping it a couple times, much to Pidge’s chagrin, before he begins preparing the meat for Coran and Hunk to cook.

 

* * *

 

“Can’t believe Allura wanted me to go on a run with you guys.” Keith rolls his eyes at Lance’s complaining, katana swinging casually at his side as they wander through the abandoned aisles of the hardware store. “Why’re we even here?”

“Pidge and Hunk need more tools or whatever.” Keith says, crouching down and picking up a crowbar.

“But they have you.” Lance mutters and Keith stands, raising the bar over his head, and Lance gives an undignified screech, ducking behind Shiro.

“That’s _enough,_ Lance, stop complaining, and Keith?” Keith stops glaring at Lance to gaze at Shiro. “Please put the crowbar down.”

Keith huffs, but does what Shiro says, dropping the bar with a clang and folding his arms.

“We’re here to grab some things and get out as quick as we can, got it?” Shiro looks between Lance and Keith expectantly, and Lance gives a salute, an unnecessarily loud “Yes, Sir!” and Keith nods.

Shiro sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking not unlike a tired parent trying to get his kids under control, and Keith can’t help the twitch of his mouth at the sight, Shiro’s white fringe really cementing that image.

They wander around the store, staying close with weapons at the ready. Lance grabs a shopping basket, and him and Keith fill it up with the items off the list Hunk had written for them.

“I’m going to go check some of the other aisles…” Shiro mutters absently, looking down at his list and back up at the shelf he’s standing in front of. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Sure.” Lance waves him off, but Keith furrows his brow, sitting up and watching Shiro round the corner. “Stop staring at his ass and continue helping me.” Lance grumbles, and Keith scoffs.

It’s blissfully quiet for a few moments, nothing but the sound of metal clinking together as Lance and Keith sift through the copious amounts of bolts, searching for the right sizes.

Then there’s a crash, distant, and Keith pauses.

It’s soon followed by another, closer, Keith’s head raising as he looks around wearily.

Suddenly there’s quick footsteps; running, and Shiro skids to a stop at their aisle, cussing up a storm and running toward Lance and Keith.

“Drop everything- we gotta leave, _now!_ ”

“Shiro, what-” Keith starts, as Shiro grabs his arm and hoists him up, yet another crash sounding from within the store, closely followed by unmistakable groaning. “Oh fuck-”

“There’s a herd, we gotta move. Lance, call Allura, we need backup!”

Shiro’s frantic, tugging Keith along and they round the end of the aisle, toward the back of the store.

“The van’s out front-” Lance shouts, running behind them and fumbling with the phone, dialling Allura’s number with shaking fingers.

“So is the herd!” Shiro shouts back, and Lance swears.

“Allura?! Allura we need backup, now! There’s a fucking _herd-_ ”

Shiro abruptly stops, pulling Keith behind him and grabbing his sword in one hand, gun in the other, and Keith looks over his shoulder to see at least two dozen Corpses breaking down the back exit.

“This is bad, this is really, really bad.” Lance is muttering behind them, still holding the phone while he fumbles, trying to grab his gun.

Keith steps aside, katanas at the ready, ignoring Shiro’s worried look and getting into a fighting stance.

“There are more coming up behind us-” Lance says, turning and shoving the phone in his pocket, aiming at the few zombies that traipse out of the nearest aisle. “The others are on their way, we gotta try get somewhere safe in the meantime!”

“Safe!?” Keith yells, turning to look at Lance for a second, then turning back to the horde in front of himself and Shiro when Lance starts shooting.

Both Keith and Shiro rush forward, attacking the Corpses once they break down the door, stabbing this way and that, and Keith kicks aside more limp bodies than he cares to keep count of.

The few dozen dwindle to the singular digits, and Keith turns to help Lance who’s beginning to panic, better from a far vantage point. Keith swoops past him, helping pick off the Corpses.

They work together like that for what feels like hours, killing the dead that are trying to kill _them_ and it has Keith’s head spinning, but he grits his teeth and soldiers on, muscles screaming with the effort, but he can’t stop, _they_ can’t stop, lest they end up like the beings they’re attacking.

Shiro wails, his sword dropping to the ground with a loud clang, and Keith turns to look, everything narrowing down to just Shiro, and the Corpse that’s currently got its rotten teeth dug into Shiro’s forearm.

 _“Shiro!”_ Keith doesn’t think, charges toward Shiro, tears in his eyes blurring his vision as he grabs the man, kicking the Corpse in the torso, bones cracking and flesh caving too easily, but it’s enough force to have the monster thrown back, teeth ripping out of Shiro’s skin as it falls backward, skull cracking open on the linoleum of the floor.

“Shiro! _Shiro!_ ” Keith screams, cries, pulling a panting and grunting Shiro from the midst of the battle, heaving and baring all his weight, looking around frantically at the Corpses closing in on them.

He holds Shiro, pulling him to his chest and holding out a bloody katana, the blade shaking in his grip, and he sobs, pressing his face to Shiro’s sweat-soaked hair, panting harshly and expecting this to be the end.

Gunshots ring out, closer than before and the Corpses surround Keith and Shiro drop, and Lance comes into view, eyes widening at the sight before him, and he raises a bloody hand to his mouth.

“Oh my god-” Lance’s face crumples, but he quickly pulls himself together, looking around then, panting before he’s charging aside, kicking open the door to a storage closet.

Keith’s stunned, still holding onto Shiro even as Lance helps them both up, helps Keith carry Shiro into the closet, and they close the door, barricading it for good measure.

“Shiro-” Keith’s voice breaks, looking down at the man in his arms, limp, barely conscious. “Shiro, c-can you hear me?” His voice is shaky at best, and Shiro’s mostly closed eyes meet his briefly, and he chokes on something sounding like Keith’s name.

“We have to amputate it.” Lance says, lifting shaky arms and removing his shirt, just as Keith’s head shoots up to look at him, eyes wide and terrified.

“Wha-”

“It’s going to spread if we don’t act soon.” Lance interrupts, looking around frantically, before his gaze locks onto a hatchet.

“L-Lance…?” Keith looks up at the man as he grabs the short axe, watching as he exhales shakily, examining the blade. “W-what if he-”

“He won’t, Keith, I promise.” Lance drops down next to where Keith is holding Shiro, and grabs at his bitten arm, the right arm, holding it firm against the ground. Shiro barely twitches. “I need you to put my shirt in his mouth, bunch it up so he can bite into it. And then…” Lance looks down, ripping a strip off his shirt before handing the material to Keith to do what he’d just instructed. “Then I need you to hold him still.”

With that, Lance ties the strip of fabric just above Shiro’s elbow, tightening until he’s cut off circulation

Keith does what Lance told him too, crying even as he shoves the bunched up shirt between Shiro’s teeth, leaning down and holding him.

“I’m so sorry- Shiro- I’m so sorry-” Keith sobs into his neck, leaning almost all his weight on the man, not wanting to watch as Lance raises the hatchet, swinging it down with a sickening squelch, a nauseating crunch that has Keith crying harder, especially upon hearing Shiro’s barely muffled screams.

Lance swears, having to repeat the motion when the hatchet doesn’t cut through on the first try, and warm blood hits the back of Keith’s neck.

Shiro’s wailing, choking around the shirt in his mouth and bucking underneath Keith, who holds him down as best he can, eyes squeezed shut as he sobs.

Lance has to swallow back bile more than once, hands shaking as he throws the hatchet aside, blood pooling around Shiro’s side, around his knees where he’s knelt next to him, pressing his hand to the severed stump.

“Keith- Keith I need your shirt!” Lance yells, panting, panicking, as Keith quickly sits up, ripping off his shirt hastily and giving it to Lance. He folds it a couple times, covering the stump and applying pressure, just as a ruckus sounds from outside.

“ _Lance!_ ” Allura shouts from outside, and someone kicks at the door, it breaks open with a loud crack, Hunk looking in, eyes widening before he turns and calls the others over.

Matt and Samuel charge in with a stretcher, and Hunk helps them lift Shiro onto it, even as Keith cries, reaching out for him, but Lance tugs him back.

“ _Shiro!_ ” Keith screams, trying to chase after him, but Lance holds firm, turning Keith to meet his eyes, holding onto his face.

“Keith, _Keith_ , I need you to listen to me-” He’s sobbing, too, breathing erratic as unintentionally smears Shiro’s blood on Keith’s neck, his cheek, his skin sticky with it. “He’s going to be alright- they’re going to stop the bleeding, cauterise the wound. They’ll take care of him, I promise you, Shiro will make it.”

Keith freezes, looking up at Lance with red eyes, and wet cheeks, panting, trying to believe what Lance is saying.

It’s hard to hear over the pounding of his pulse in his ears, through the ringing of gunfire.

Lance grabs him, all but dragging Keith from that small room, away from the puddle of cooling blood and out the back door, where they can see where Sam and Matt had parked their van, see Matt closing the door.

Keith breaks out of Lance’s grip, despite his yelling after him, and runs toward the van, reaching for the back door when suddenly Hunk gets a hold of him.

Keith screams, kicking with a sob but Hunk holds firm, tears trailing down his own face.

“Keith- please, you have to let them stabilise him-”

“No!” Keith sobs, writhing and panting, the van’s back door is _right there_. “Shiro!” Keith screams, managing to break out of Hunk’s grip for a split second, lurching forward, his fingertips skimming over the door handle before he’s pulled back once more.

Hunk’s shouting at him, but Keith can’t hear over his own wailing, the blood rushing through his ears.

Shiro’s in there, he could be dead for all Keith knows, and no one is letting him inside to see if Shiro’s going to be alright.

 _“Shiro!”_ A last, futile attempt at escaping Hunk’s hold, before he slumps, Hunk holding him easily while he sobs, and everything else fades out.

He can’t hear the gunfire, the groaning of Corpses, the way Hunk’s yelling that they have to leave. All he can hear is the rush of blood in his ears, memories of himself and Shiro flashing before his eyes; Shiro’s smiling face, Shiro, panting above him, the way he bites his lip when trying to suppress a laugh. It all goes by, and Keith can’t breathe, vision going dark around the edges before everything goes black.

 

* * *

 

Shiro’s unconscious. In stable condition, but unconscious nonetheless.

A coma, Pidge had said, as Keith stood silently, pale in the face at the sight of Shiro’s comatose body, of the missing limb on his right side.

All Keith could think about in that moment was Isla, the person he loves, and couldn’t save.

Is this going to be a repeat of that?

No one could comfort him in the days that followed, the days Shiro stayed asleep.

Krolia tried, Pidge, Allura and Hunk tried, hell, even Lance tried, but Keith just stayed on the bed him and Shiro had shared, cuddling Aka close.

It’s after three days of this that Lance comes up to the bed, holding a video camera, and hands it over to Keith, who takes it meekly, giving Lance a small, confused look.

“It’s Shiro’s.” Lance starts, sitting tentatively on the edge of the bed. “He made me swear not to look at it, and I was going to, but was too scared of what I’d find…thought maybe he made a striptease for you, I dunno…thing is,” Lance points to the camera. “This is for you, and you should watch whatever it is that’s on here, because I hate that you’re just isolating yourself from us. We’re upset to, you know…”

He stands, and Keith looks up to him, biting his lip, not knowing what to say. But Lance just leaves, closing the door behind himself with a final click.

It’s suddenly silent, and the camera suddenly feels heavy in Keith’s hand. He carefully lifts it, sitting up and turning the device on. There’s only one video on the camera, the thumbnail a picture of Shiro sitting on the very bed Keith’s sat atop right now.

Taking a deep breath, Keith presses play.

 _“Keith, if you’re watching this, it means either something’s happened to me, or you’ve gone through my stuff while I’m not there.”_ The small, pixelated version of Shiro laughs, adjusting his grip on the guitar he’s holding. _“If it’s anyone else watching this, please stop now, ‘cause this is for one person’s eyes only.”_

Keith feels a tear roll down his cheek, but he can’t help the small twitch of his lips at the sight of Shiro, the first thing resembling a smile from Keith in over three days.

 _“Now, this is gonna sound cheesy as hell but…I wrote you a song. I wrote_ us _, a song.”_ Shiro smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and looking back to the camera. _“I’m gonna sing it now…I hope you don’t randomly walk in during this, ‘cause that’d be a bit awkward.”_

He huffs a small laugh, looking toward the door of the RV, as if double checking no one was actually going to walk in, before he’s clearing his throat and placing his fingers on the respectful strings, in the respectful chords, looking to the camera, he begins.

The first strum of that guitar has Keith exhaling with a sob.

_“The two of us have gone through the end of the world, at each others side._  
_I never thought I’d feel this way, never thought I’d have a chance to say, you’re the one to whom I wish to be tied._  
_So, please be my apocalypse lover, my one true other, you helped me discover, what it is to love, in every sense.  
I’ll be at your side, there’s no sitting on the fence._

_I wanted you to know, that I love you so, and as long as I’m alive, I’m not leaving you tonight.  
I want you in my sight. _

_We fight for our lives, each and every day, and though it’s all so hard, I need you to know with you I’ll stay.  
I dream of a time, it’ll just be you and I, sitting in a home, in a different world, and in a different time. _

_I wanted you to know, that I love you so, and as long as I’m alive, I’m not leaving you tonight.  
I want you in my sight. _

_I want you in my arms…_  
_And I wanna keep you, in my heart.  
The world has gone to shit, but with you, the struggle is worth it._

_Keith, I wanted you to know, that I love you so._  
_I’ve never said it, but I mean what I say._  
_I love you so, and as long as I’m alive, I’m not leaving you tonight.  
I want you, I need you in my sight.”_

Shiro’s voice cracks slightly on the last word, the chord ending abruptly as he leans forward, wiping at his eyes harshly.

Shiro looks back to the camera, the picture isn’t the best quality, but Keith can see the redness of his eyes, the shine of what looks like tears on his cheeks.

 _“I love you, I think it’s been that way for a long time, now.”_ Shiro whispers, before he reaches up, stopping the video with the screen freezing on Shiro’s face.

Keith slowly lowers the camera, exhaling shakily, before he cries, slapping a hand over his mouth as a choked sob wracks his frame. With eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched, Keith lies on what was deemed his and Shiro’s bed, shaking with the force of it.

It feels like he’s been crying for hours, his eyes stinging, his throat sore. He feels a dip in the mattress, lowering his hand slightly to see Lance sitting on the edge of the bed again, his own eyes wet. He opens his arms slightly, an offer, and Keith pulls him forward, hugging Lance tight.

“I love him-” Keith hiccups, pressing his face to Lance’s shoulder. “I love him, Lance.”

“I know,” Lance holds Keith close, rubbing up and down his back. “I know you do…and I know he loves you, too.”

Keith inhales shakily, his tears soaking through Lance’s shirt, but he doesn’t pay any mind to it, letting Keith clutch to him and cry, silent tears running down his own cheeks.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith shoots upward in bed with a start, his eyes stinging with opening them abruptly, a rude wake up call as Lance all but crashes into the RV.

He’s speaking frantically, words rushed and merging, but Keith manages to understand: “He’s awake, Keith. The first thing he said was your name, he needs to see you- to know you’re okay-”

Keith doesn’t hesitate even a second before he’s jumping up off the bed and onto his feet, uncaring of how he may look doing so. Grabbing Lance’s arm as an afterthought, Keith drags him back out of the RV to the next one over, to where Shiro’s been staying since they brought him back after cutting off his arm.

He stops, panting in the doorway, Hunk looks toward him, there are bits and pieces of metal on the small kitchenette counter, Hunk holding a couple pieces, and Keith stops to stare at them a moment.

“What’s…?”

“The start of a prosthetic.” Hunk says quietly, before he inclines his head to the other side of the van, where a curtain blocks the bed from view. “Go see him. He needs to see you.”

Keith nods, stepping toward the curtain, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself and pulling it aside, staring at the man before him, eyes already growing wet, his breath hitching.

He’s lying there on the bed, while Allura sits there feeding him bits of cut up fruit, an empty glass and open box of pain medication sitting on the table beside them.

“Shiro,” Keith gasps, and Shiro’s head turns toward him as he exhales shakily, reaching out his hand.

Allura moves in order for Keith to stride quickly over to his bedside, gripping Shiro’s hand in both of his own and kissing his knuckles, eyes squeezed shut as relief flows through him, and tears roll down his cheeks.

“Keith,” Shiro tugs weakly and Keith surges forward, careful to avoid his right side when leaning over Shiro. His voice is hoarse with disuse, but Keith’s just glad to hear it after days of nothing. “You’re okay.”

“ _I’m_ okay?” Keith huffs in disbelief, tears dripping off his chin and onto Shiro, the two paying no mind when Shiro’s eyes start growing shiny with unshed tears. “I thought I’d lost you, _‘Kashi-”_

Keith inhales sharply, leaning down and kissing Shiro, at first along his cheeks, but then moves quickly to his lips, the response immediate as shaking hands cup cheeks and thumbs wipe away tears that won’t stop flowing, they’re happy, despite everything that’s happened, and Keith’s smiling softly.

“Fuck, Shiro-” Keith breaks the kiss for a moment, pressing his forehead to Shiro’s but soon reinstating their kiss, unable to resist tilting his head to deepen the gesture before he speaks into it, voice muffled by the lips working against his own. “I love you.”

Shiro pushes Keith back an inch, and he fears he’d said the wrong thing for a moment, only to look down and see the quivering smile Shiro bore.

“I love you too, Keith.”

He can’t help the sob that escapes him when they both surge forward again, teeth clicking on impact and making them both laugh softly, kissing once more.

There’s a sudden “Whoop!” from Lance, followed by a yelp of pain as Pidge smacks him, and Keith and Shiro chuckle softly, hearing the door click shut as the others leave, giving them space.

Keith bites his lip, eyes closed and forehead pressed to Shiro’s, feeling fingers carding softly through his hair.

“I love you,” Keith says again, and the fingers grip, tugging gently until he’s kissing Shiro again, an “I love you too,” whispered against his lips.

“I watched the video,” Keith whispers, and there’s a small, embarrassed groan from beneath him, making Keith huff a small laugh. “It was beautiful…”

“That wasn’t the final version…” Shiro mumbles, and Keith just shakes his head with a fond smile, pressing their lips together, unable to stop kissing him, now that he knows Shiro’s going to be okay.

“Maybe you’ll have to sing it to me sometime…” He says, and Shiro smiles against him. “I can horribly attempt to play the guitar for you until Hunk and Pidge finish your prosthetic.”

A small chuckle, another kiss, and Shiro nods, careful not to dislodge his lips from Keith’s. “I’d like that.”

Their situations are far from ideal, but they’re able to make do, they’ve got each other, as cheesy as it sounds.

There’s no riding off into the sunset together, there’s no guarantied _Happily Ever After_ , but there’s this group.

This eclectic family they’ve created.

Keith’s got everything he needs, and despite telling himself he wasn’t going to fall in love, he did, but he doesn’t regret it, especially when Shiro comes back from a town run with Allura, only to present him with a black band while getting down on one knee.

Lance had to stay in one of the other vans that night, Shiro and Keith rolling around in the sheets together, simple black shining on their left fingers in the pale moonlight and large, breathless smiles on their faces.

Their situations are far from ideal, but with Shiro in Keith’s arms, things are perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's all, folks!
> 
> This is the longest story I've written to date.
> 
> If you've read my other works, you can probably tell that smut one-shots are more my forte, but in saying that, I don't think this turned out too bad.
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments! I love hearing from you guys, comments and kudos water my crops and make me smile.
> 
> Feel free to follow me on [Tumblr](http://shklancebeefsandwich.tumblr.com) (heed nsfw, but if you're here you're probably okay with that)
> 
> Or check out my [Writing Blog](http://kuro-aka-gane.tumblr.com) where you can see my other work and request a drabble or commission a fan fiction from me.
> 
> Cheers for reading!


End file.
